INSTRCTION Assignment: Essay #3 Due electronically by Monday, 12/6 Write two papers as described

BOOK 3 An Old King Remembers

Leaving the Ocean’s 
streams,°
 the Sun leapt up

into the sky of 
bronze,°
 to shine his light

for gods and mortals on the fertile earth.

Telemachus arrived in Pylos, where

the Pylians were bringing to the beach

black bulls for blue Poseidon, Lord of Earthquakes.

There were nine pews, five hundred men on each,

and each group had nine bulls to sacrifice.

They burned the thigh-bones for the god, and ate

the innards. Then the Ithacans arrived,

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took down their sails, dropped anchor and alighted.

The goddess with the flashing eyes, Athena,

first led Telemachus onshore, then spoke.

“Do not be shy, Telemachus. You sailed

over the sea to ask about your father,

where the earth hides him, what his fate might be.

So hurry now to Nestor, lord of horses.

Learn what advice he has in mind for you.

Supplicate him yourself, and he will tell you

the truth; he is not one to tell a lie.”

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Telemachus replied, “But Mentor, how

can I approach and talk to him? I am

quite inexperienced at making speeches,

and as a young man, I feel awkward talking

to elders.”

   She looked straight into his eyes,

and answered, “You will work out what to do,

through your own wits and with divine assistance.

The gods have blessed you in your life so far.”

So Pallas spoke and quickly led him on;

he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.

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They reached the center of the town, where Nestor

was sitting with his sons and his companions,

putting the meat on spits and roasting it

for dinner. When they saw the strangers coming,

they all stood up with open arms to greet them,

inviting them to join them. Nestor’s son,

Pisistratus, shook hands and sat them down,

spreading soft fleeces on the sand beside

his father and his brother, Thrasymedes.

He served them giblets and he poured some wine

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into a golden cup, and raised a toast

to Pallas, child of Zeus the Aegis-Lord.

“Now guest, give prayers of thanks to Lord Poseidon,

and pour libations for the god. This feast

is in his honor; pay him proper dues.

Then give the boy the cup of honeyed wine,

so he can offer to the deathless gods

libations. Everybody needs the gods.

I give the golden chalice to you first,

because the boy is younger, more my age.”

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He put the cup of sweet wine in her hand.

Athena was impressed with his good manners,

because he rightly gave it first to her.

At once she made a heartfelt prayer.

     “Poseidon!

O Shaker of the Earth, do not refuse

to grant our prayer; may all these things come true.

Bring fame to Nestor and his sons, and grant

gifts to the Pylians, as recompense

for this fine sacrifice. And may the quest

for which we sailed here in our swift black ship

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succeed, and may we come home safe again.”

She made her prayer come true all by herself.

She gave Telemachus the splendid cup

with double handle, and his prayer matched hers.

And then they cooked the outer parts of meat,

and helped themselves to pieces, sharing round

the glorious feast, till they could eat no more.

Then first Gerenian 
Nestor,°
 horse-lord, spoke.

“Now that our guests are satisfied with food,

time now to talk to them and ask them questions.

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Strangers, who are you? Where did you sail from?

Are you on business, or just scouting round

like pirates on the sea, who risk their lives

to ravage foreign homes?”

  Telemachus

was thoughtful but not shy. Athena gave him

the confidence deep in his heart to ask

about his absent father, and to gain

a noble reputation for himself.

“Great Nestor, son of Neleus,” he said,

“You ask where I am from. I will be frank.

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I come from Ithaca, beneath Mount Neion:

my business here is personal, not public.

I came to gather news about my father,

long-suffering Odysseus. They say

he fought with you to sack the town of Troy.

We know the place where all the other men

who battled with the Trojans lost their lives.

But Zeus still keeps Odysseus’ fate

in darkness; no one knows where he was lost.

Maybe some hostile men killed him on land,

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or he was drowned in Amphitrite’s 
waves.°

I beg you, tell me, did you see him die

with your own eyes? Or have you any news

about where he may be? He must be lost.

His mother surely bore him for misfortune.

You need not sweeten what you say, in pity

or from embarrassment. Just tell me straight

what your eyes saw of him, my noble father.

If ever he made promises to you

and kept his word at Troy, in times of trouble,

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remember those times now. Tell me the truth!”

Gerenian Nestor, horse-lord, answered him,

“Dear boy, you call to mind how much we suffered,

with strong, unyielding hearts, in distant lands

when we were sailing over misty seas,

led by Achilles on a hunt for spoils,

and when we fought around the mighty city

of Priam. Our best warriors were killed.

Ajax lies dead there, and there lies Achilles;

there lies his godlike friend and guide, Patroclus;

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my own strong, matchless son lies dead there too,

Antilochus, who fought and ran so well.

More pain, more grief—our sufferings increased.

Who could recount so many, many losses?

If you stayed here five years and kept on asking

how many things the fighters suffered there,

you would get bored and go back home again

before the story ended. Nine long years

we schemed to bring them down, and finally

Zeus made our plots succeed. Odysseus,

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your father, if you really are his son—

well, no one dared to try to equal him

in cleverness. That man was always best

at every kind of trick. And seeing you,

I am amazed at how you talk like him.

One would not think so young a man could do it.

Well, back in Troy, Odysseus and I

always agreed in councils, with one mind.

We gave the Argives all the best advice.

After we conquered Priam’s lofty town,

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a god dispersed the ships of the Achaeans.

Zeus planned a bitter journey home for us,

since some of us had neither sense nor 
morals.°

Gray-eyed Athena, daughter of the Thunder,

became enraged and brought about disaster.

She set the sons of Atreus to fight

each other. Hastily, they called the people

at sunset, not observing proper 
norms.°

The men arrived already drunk on wine;

the brothers told them why they called the meeting.

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Then Menelaus said that it was time

to sail back home across the open sea.

But Agamemnon disagreed entirely.

He wanted them to stay and sacrifice

to heal the sickness of Athena’s wrath—

pointless! He did not know she would not yield.

The minds of the immortals rarely change.

So those two stood and argued angrily,

and with a dreadful clash of arms the Greeks

leapt up on two opposing sides. We slept

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that eerie night with hearts intent on hatred

against each other—since Zeus meant us harm.

At dawn one group of us dragged down our ships

into the sea piled high with loot and women,

while half the army still remained there, stationed

with Agamemnon, shepherd of the people.

My friends and I set sail with all good speed—

a god had made the choppy sea lie calm.

We came to Tenedos and sacrificed,

praying to get back home—but Zeus refused;

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the cruel god roused yet more strife among us.

Your father’s plans were always flexible:

his men turned round their prows and sailed right back

to make their peace again with Agamemnon.

But I assembled all my fleet, and fled—

I understood some god must mean us harm.

Then Diomedes roused his men to come,

and ruddy Menelaus quickly sailed

to meet with us on Lesbos, and we pondered

our long sea journey. Should we travel north,

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go past the rocks of Chios to our left,

to Psyria, or under Chios, passing

blustery 
Mimas?°
 So we prayed for signs.

The god told us to cross the open sea

towards Euboea, to escape disaster.

A fair wind whistled and our ships sped on

across the journey-ways of fish, and landed

at nightfall in 
Geraestus.°
 To Poseidon

we offered many bulls, since we had crossed

safely across wide waters. The fourth day

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the men of Diomedes moored their ships

at Argos; I kept going on, to Pylos.

The wind the god had sent kept holding strong

the whole way home. So, my dear boy, I have

no news about what happened next. I do not

know which of them has died and who is safe.

But I can tell you what I heard while sitting

here in my halls. You ought to know. They say

Achilles’ son led home the 
Myrmidons,°

and Philoctetes came back home with 
glory.°

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And Idomeneus led back his crew

to 
Crete;°
 no man of his who had survived

the war was lost at sea. And Agamemnon?

You must have heard, though you live far away.

Aegisthus murdered him! But he has paid

a bitter price. How fortunate the dead man

had left a son to take revenge upon

the wicked, scheming killer, that Aegisthus,

who killed Orestes’ father. My dear boy,

I see that you are tall and strong. Be brave,

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so you will be remembered.”

   Thoughtfully

Telemachus replied, “Your Majesty,

King Nestor, yes. Orestes took revenge.

The Greeks will make him famous through the world

and into future times. I wish the gods

would grant me that much power against those men

who threaten and insult me—those cruel suitors!

The gods have not yet granted us this blessing,

my father and myself. We must endure.”

Gerenian Nestor, lord of horses, answered,

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“Dear boy, since you have brought the subject up,

I have been told about your mother’s suitors,

how badly they are treating you at home.

But do you willingly submit to it?

Or has a god’s voice led the townspeople

to hate you? Well, who knows, perhaps one day

he will come home and take revenge, alone,

or with an army of the 
Greeks.°
 If only

Athena loved you, as she used to care

for glorious Odysseus at Troy

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when we were doing badly. I have never

seen gods display such favor as she gave

when she stood by your father. If she helped you

with that much love, the suitors would forget

their hopes for marriage.”

 Then Telemachus

replied, “My lord, I doubt that this will happen.

I am surprised you have such confidence.

I would not be so hopeful, even if

the gods were willing.”

       Then the goddess spoke.

“Telemachus, what do you mean? A god

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can easily save anyone, at will,

no matter what the distance. I would rather

suffer immensely, but then get home safe,

than die on my return like Agamemnon,

murdered by his own wife, and by Aegisthus.

But death is universal. Even gods

cannot protect the people that they love,

when fate and cruel death catch up with them.”

Telemachus said apprehensively,

“Mentes, this is upsetting. Change the subject.

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He has no real chance now of getting home.

The gods have fenced him round with death and darkness.

Let me ask Nestor something else—he is

wiser and more informed than anyone.

They say he ruled for three whole generations.

He looks to me like some immortal god.

So Nestor, son of Neleus, please tell me,

how did the great King Agamemnon die?

And where was Menelaus? Was he lost,

away from Greece, when that Aegisthus dared

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to kill a king, a better man than him?

How did that wicked trickster’s plot succeed?”

Gerenian Nestor, lord of horses, answered,

“I will tell everything—though you can guess

what would have happened if fair Menelaus

had found Aegisthus living in his halls

on his return. And even when he died,

no one would bury him; he lay upon

the open plain without a tomb and far

from town for birds and dogs to eat. No Greek

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would mourn that monster. While we fought and labored

at Troy, this layabout sat safe in Argos,

seducing Clytemnestra, noble wife

of Agamemnon. For a while, she scorned

his foul suggestions, since her heart was good.

Moreover, when her husband went to Troy,

he left a poet, ordered to protect her.

But finally Fate forced the queen to 
yield.°

Aegisthus left the poet to be eaten

by birds, abandoned on a desert island.

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He led the woman back to his own house

by mutual desire, and then he made

numerous offerings on holy altars

of animals and lovely gold and cloth:

he had succeeded far beyond his hopes.

And meanwhile, I left Troy with Menelaus;

we sailed together, best of friends. We reached

the holy cape of Athens, Sounion.

There Phoebus with his gentle arrows shot

and killed the pilot, Phrontis, as he held

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the ship’s helm as she sped along. No man

knew better how to steer through any storm,

so Menelaus stopped to bury him

with proper rites. At last he sailed again

across the wine-dark sea; but as his ships

rushed round the craggy heights of Malea,

far-seeing Zeus sent curses on his journey,

pouring out screaming winds and giant waves

the size of mountains—splitting up the fleet.

Some ships were hurled to Crete, to River Jardan,

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where the Cydonian people have their homes.

There steep rock rises sheer above the sea

near Gortyn in the misty deep; south winds

drive mighty waves towards the left-hand crag,

and push them west to 
Phaestus;°
 one small rock

restrains the massive currents. All the ships

were smashed by waves against those rocks. The men

were almost drowned. Five other dark-prowed ships

were blown by wind and sea away to Egypt.

There Menelaus gathered wealth and gold

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and drifted with his ships through foreign lands.

Meanwhile at home, Aegisthus had been plotting.

He killed the son of Atreus and seized

control of rich Mycenae, where he reigned

for seven years. But in the eighth, Orestes

came to destroy him. He returned from Athens,

and killed his father’s murderer, then called

the Argives to a funeral, a feast

for clever, scheming, cowardly Aegisthus

whom he had killed, and his own hated mother.

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That very day, rambunctious Menelaus

arrived with all his ships crammed full of treasure.

The moral is, you must not stay away

too long, dear boy, when those proud suitors lurk

inside your house. They may divide your wealth

among themselves and make your journey useless.

But I suggest you go to Menelaus.

He recently returned from lands so distant

no one would even hope to get home safe

once driven by the winds so far off course,

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over such dangerous, enormous seas.

Birds migrate there and take a year or more

to travel back. Go visit him by ship

with your own crew. Or if you would prefer,

you can go there by land—here is a carriage.

My sons can guide you all the way to 
Sparta,°

to Menelaus. Ask him for the truth.

He will not lie; he is an honest man.”

The sun went down and darkness fell. The goddess,

bright-eyed Athena, spoke to them.

    “King Nestor,

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your speech was good and your advice was sound.

But now slice up the tongues and pour the wine

for Lord Poseidon and the other gods

before we rest—time now to go to bed.

The light is fading and it is not right

to linger at a banquet in the dark.”

The people listened to Athena’s words.

The house slaves poured fresh water on their hands,

and boys filled up the mixing bowls with wine,

and poured it into cups, and first prepared

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the sacrifice. They threw tongues on the fire,

then sprinkled wine, then each man drank his fill.

Then Zeus’ daughter and the godlike boy

both rose to go together to their ship.

But Nestor called to stop them.

    “Zeus forbids it!

And all the other gods who live forever!

You cannot leave my house for your swift ship

as if I were a poor and ragged man

with so few beds and blankets in his home

that neither he nor guests can sleep in comfort.

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I have soft quilts and blankets in abundance.

The darling son of great Odysseus

must not sleep on the ship’s deck, while I live!

Not while my sons remain here in my house,

ready to welcome anyone who visits.”

The bright-eyed goddess answered him, “Old friend,

you are quite right. Telemachus should do

just as you say. That is a better plan.

He will stay here tonight and go to sleep

in your fine palace. But I must go back

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to tell the crew the news and keep them strong.

You see, I am the oldest in our party.

The rest are younger men, close friends together,

the same age as our brave Telemachus.

I will sleep there beside the hollow ship.

At dawn I have important obligations:

to visit with the great Cauconians.

The boy can be your guest. Then send him off

escorted by your son. Give him a carriage,

drawn by your strongest and most nimble 
horses.”°

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Bright-eyed Athena flew away, transformed

into an 
ossifrage.°
 Astonishment

seized all the people watching, even Nestor.

He seized Telemachus’ hand and said,

“Dear boy, I am now sure that you will be

a hero, since the gods are on your side

at your young age. This was a god, none other

than great Athena, true-born child of Zeus,

who also glorified your noble father.

Goddess, be kind to us as well, and grant

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honor to me, my good wife, and our sons.

Now I will sacrifice a yearling heifer,

broad-browed and still unyoked, and gild her horns

with gold to bless your journey.”

    So he spoke,

and Pallas heard his prayer. Gerenian Nestor

led them and led his sons and sons-in-law

inside his own magnificent great hall.

When they were all inside, he seated them

on benches and on chairs arranged in order,

and he himself mixed up the bowl for them

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of sweet delicious wine. He had preserved it

eleven years. The slave girl opened it,

pulling the lid off. As the old man mixed,

he prayed and poured libations for Athena.

They all poured also, then they drank their fill,

then each went home to sleep in his own chamber.

Nestor the horseman made a special bed

right there for his dear friend, the warrior’s son:

a camp bed on the echoing portico,

beside Pisistratus, the only son

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not living with a wife but still at home.

Nestor himself slept by his wife, the queen,

in a secluded corner of the palace.

When newborn Dawn appeared with rosy fingers,

the horse-lord Nestor jumped up out of bed,

and hurried down towards the polished stones

that stood outside his palace, bright with 
oil.°

There Neleus used to give godlike advice,

until Fate took him and he went to Hades,

and Nestor, guardian of the Greeks, took over

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the scepter. From their rooms his sons arrived

to throng around him: Echephron and Stratius,

Aretus, Perseus, great Thrasymedes,

and strong Pisistratus the sixth. They brought

godlike Telemachus to sit with them.

Nestor spoke first.

     “Dear sons, now hurry up,

fulfill my wishes. First we must appease

Athena, who revealed herself to me

during the holy feast. Now one of you

must run down to the fields to choose a cow;

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let herdsmen drive her back here. And another,

go to Telemachus’ ship and bring

the men—leave only two behind. Another

must bring Laerces here, who pours the gold,

so he can gild the heifer’s horns. You others,

stay here together. Tell the girls inside

to cook a royal feast, and set out seats,

put wood around the altar, and clear water.”

At that, the sons all got to work. The cow

was brought up from the field. The crew arrived

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from the swift, solid ship. The goldsmith came

with all the bronze tools useful for his trade—

hammer and anvil and well-crafted tongs—

and worked the gold. Athena came to take

the sacrifice. King Nestor gave the gold;

the craftsman poured it on the horns, to make

a lovely offering to please the goddess.

Stratius and Echephron together led

the heifer by the horns. Aretus came

and brought a water bowl adorned with flowers,

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and in his other hand, a box of grain.

Strong Thrasymedes stood nearby and held

a sharpened axe, prepared to strike the cow.

Perseus held the blood-bowl. Nestor started

to sprinkle barley-groats and ritual 
water,°

and as he threw the hairs into the fire

he said prayers to Athena. When the rites

were finished, mighty Thrasymedes struck.

The axe sliced through the sinews of the neck.

The cow was paralyzed. Then Nestor’s daughters

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and his sons’ wives, and his own loyal queen,

Eurydice, began to 
chant.°
 The men

hoisted the body, and Pisistratus

sliced through her 
throat.°
 Black blood poured out. The life

was gone. They butchered her, cut out the thighs,

all in the proper place, and covered them

with double fat and placed raw flesh upon 
them.°

The old king burned the pieces on the logs,

and poured the bright red wine. The young men came

to stand beside him holding five-pronged forks.

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They burned the thigh-bones thoroughly and tasted

the entrails, then carved up the rest and skewered

the meat on pointed spits, and roasted it.

Meanwhile, Telemachus was being washed

by Nestor’s eldest daughter, Polycaste.

When she had washed and rubbed his skin with oil

she dressed him in a tunic and fine cloak

and he emerged; his looks were like a god’s.

He sat by Nestor, shepherd of the people.

The meat was roasted and drawn off the spits.

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They sat to eat, while trained slaves served the food,

pouring the wine for them in golden cups.

After their hunger and their thirst were gone,

Gerenian Nestor, horse-lord, started talking.

“My sons, now bring two horses with fine manes

and yoke them to the carriage, so our guest

can start his journey.”

They obeyed at once,

and quickly latched swift horses to the carriage.

One of the house girls brought out food and wine

and delicacies fit to feed a king.

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Telemachus got in the lovely carriage;

Pisistratus, the son of Nestor, followed,

and sat beside him, taking up the reins,

and whipped the horses. Eagerly they flew

off for the open plain, and left the town.

All day they ran and made the harness rattle.

At sunset when the streets grew dark, they came

to Pherae, to the home of Diocles,

son of Ortilochus; Alpheus was

his grandfather. They spent the night as guests.

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When rosy-fingered Dawn came bright and early,

they yoked the horses to the painted carriage,

and drove out from the gate and echoing porch.

At a light touch of whip, the horses flew.

Swiftly they drew towards their journey’s end,

on through the fields of wheat, until the sun

began to set and shadows filled the streets.

BOOK 4 What the Sea God Said

They came to Sparta, land of caves and valleys,

and drove to Menelaus’ house. They found him

hosting a wedding feast for many guests

to celebrate his children’s marriages.

In Troy he had declared that he would give

his daughter to Achilles’ son, who ruled

the Myrmidons. Now he was sending her,

with dowry gifts of horse-drawn chariots;

the gods had made the marriage come to pass.

And he was welcoming a Spartan bride,

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Alector’s daughter, for his well-loved son,

strong Megapenthes, mothered by a slave.

The gods had given Helen no more children

after the beautiful Hermione,

image of Aphrodite all in gold.

Neighbors and family were feasting gladly

under the king’s high roof. The bard was singing

and strumming, and two acrobats were spinning

and leading them in dance. Telemachus

and Nestor’s son stopped by the palace doors

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and held their horses. Menelaus’ guard,

Eteoneus, ran out and saw them there,

and then hurried back inside to tell his master.

“Your Majesty, there are two men outside,

strangers who seem like sons of Zeus. Please tell me,

should we take off the harness from their horses?

Or send them off to find another host?”

Flushed Menelaus shouted angrily,

“You used to have some brains!

Now you are talking like a silly child.

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We two were fed by many different hosts

before returning home. As we may hope

for Zeus to keep us safe in future times,

untack their horses! Lead them in to dine!”

So Eteoneus rushed out from the palace,

and ordered other slaves to follow him.

They freed the sweating horses from their yoke

and tied them by the manger, which they filled

with emmer that they mixed with bright white barley.

They leaned the carriage up against the wall

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and led their guests inside the godlike house.

The boys looked round the palace in amazement:

the lofty halls of famous Menelaus

shone like the dazzling light of sun or moon.

When they had satisfied their eyes with staring,

they went to take a bath in polished tubs.

The slave girls helped them wash and rubbed them down

in olive oil, then dressed them in wool cloaks

and tunics, and then seated them beside

the son of Atreus, King Menelaus.

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A house girl brought a basin made of silver,

and water in a golden jug. She poured it

over their hands to wash, then set a table

of polished wood beside them, and a humble

slave girl brought bread and many canapés,

a lavish spread. The carver carried platters

with every kind of meat, and set before them

cups made of gold. Then ruddy Menelaus

welcomed them both and told them,

       “Help yourselves!

Enjoy the food! When you have shared our meal,

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we will begin to ask you who you are.

Your fathers must be scepter-bearing kings;

the sons of peasants do not look like you.”

With that, he took the dish of rich roast meat,

cut from the back, which was his special meal,

and offered it to them. They reached their hands

to take the food set out in front of them.

After their thirst and hunger had been sated,

Telemachus turned round to Nestor’s son,

ducking his head so no one else could hear.

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“Pisistratus! Dear friend, do you see how

these echoing halls are shining bright with bronze,

and silver, gold and ivory and amber?

It is as full of riches as the palace

of Zeus on Mount Olympus! I am struck

with awe.” When Menelaus heard his words,

he spoke to them in turn—his words flew out.

“No mortal, my dear boys, can rival Zeus.

His halls and home and property are deathless.

Some man may match my wealth; or maybe not.

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I suffered for it. I was lost, adrift

at sea for eight long years. I traipsed through Cyprus,

Phoenicia, Egypt, Ethiopia,

Sidon and Araby, and Libya,

where lambs are born with horns—their ewes give birth

three times a year. The master and his slave

have milk and cheese and meat; the flock provides

sweet milk year round. But while I wandered there

accumulating wealth, someone crept in

and killed my brother; his own scheming wife

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betrayed him. I can take no joy in all

my wealth. Whoever they may be, your fathers

have surely told you how much I have suffered!

I lost my lovely home, and I was parted

for many years from all my splendid riches.

I wish I had stayed here, with just a third

of all the treasure I have now acquired,

if those who died at Troy, so far away

from Argive pastures, were alive and well.

I sit here in my palace, mourning all

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who died, and often weeping. Sometimes tears

bring comfort to my heart, but not for long;

cold grief grows sickening. I miss them all,

but one man most. When I remember him,

I cannot eat or sleep, since no one labored

like him—Odysseus. His destiny

was suffering, and mine the endless pain

of missing him. We do not even know

if he is still alive—he has been gone

so long. His faithful wife and old Laertes

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must grieve for him, and young Telemachus,

who was a newborn when he went away.”

These words roused in the boy a desperate need

to mourn his father. Tears rolled down his face

and splashed down on the ground. He lifted up

his cloak to hide his eyes. But Menelaus

noticed and wondered whether he should wait

until the boy first spoke about his father,

or ask. As he was hesitating, Helen

emerged from her high-ceilinged, fragrant bedroom,

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like Artemis, who carries golden arrows.

Adraste set a special chair for her,

Alcippe spread upon it soft wool blankets,

and Phylo brought a silver sewing basket,

given to her by Alcandre, the wife

of Polybus, who lived in Thebes, in Egypt,

where people have extraordinary wealth.

He gave two silver tubs to Menelaus,

a pair of tripods and ten pounds of gold.

His wife gave other lovely gifts for Helen:

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a golden spindle and this silver basket

on wheels; the rims were finished off with gold.

Phylo, her girl, brought out that basket now,

packed full of yarn she had already spun.

A spindle wound around with purple wool

was laid across it. She sat down and put

her feet upon a stool, and asked her husband,

“Do we know who these men are, Menelaus,

who have arrived here in our house? Shall I

conceal my thoughts or speak? I feel compelled

140

to say, the sight of them amazes me.

I never saw two people so alike

as this boy and Telemachus, the son

of spirited Odysseus, the child

he left behind, a little newborn baby,

the day the Greeks marched off to Troy, their minds

fixated on the war and violence.

They made my face the cause that hounded them.”

High-colored Menelaus answered, “Wife,

I saw the likeness too. Odysseus

150

had hands like those, those legs, that hair, that head,

that glancing gaze. And when I spoke just now

about Odysseus and all the things

he suffered for my sake, the boy grimaced,

and floods of tears were rolling down his cheeks;

he raised his purple cloak to hide his eyes.”

Pisistratus, the son of Nestor, spoke.

“King Menelaus, you are right. This is

truly his son, just as you say he is.

But he is shy and feels he should not speak

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too boldly in your presence right away.

Your voice is like a god’s to us. Lord Nestor

sent me to guide him here. He longed to see you

to get some news from you or some advice.

A son whose father is away will suffer

intensely, if he has no man at home

to help him. In the absence of his father,

Telemachus has no one to protect him.”

Then Menelaus answered, “So the son

of my dear friend, who worked so hard for me,

170

has come here to my house! I always thought

that I would greet that friend with warmth beyond

all other Argives, if Zeus let us sail

home with all speed across the sea. I would have

brought him from Ithaca, with all his wealth,

his son and people, and bestowed on him

a town in Argos, driving out the natives

from somewhere hereabouts under my rule.

We would have constantly spent time together.

Nothing would have divided us in love

180

and joy, till death’s dark cloud surrounded us.

But I suppose the god begrudged our friendship,

and kept that poor, unlucky man from home.”

His words made everybody want to cry.

Helen was weeping, as was Menelaus.

Pisistratus’ eyes were full of tears

for irreplaceable Antilochus,

killed by the noble son of shining 

Mindful of him, he spoke with words like wings.

“King Menelaus, when we spoke of you

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back home in our own halls, my father Nestor

always declared you are exceptional

for common sense. So listen now to me.

I disapprove of crying during dinner.

Dawn will soon come; weep then. There is no harm

in mourning when a person dies; it is

the only honor we can pay the dead—

to cut our hair and drench our cheeks with tears.

I had a brother named Antilochus,

one of the bravest fighters in the army,

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a sprinter and a warrior. He died.

I never got to meet him or to see him.

Perhaps you did?”

    King Menelaus answered,

“My friend, you speak just as a wise man should,

like somebody much older than yourself.

You show your father’s wisdom in your speech.

A lineage is easy to discern

when Zeus spins out a life of happiness,

in marriage and in offspring. So he gave

good luck to Nestor all his life; he aged

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at home in comfort, and his sons are wise

and skillful spear-men. Yes, we will stop crying

and turn our minds to dinner once again.

Let them pour water on our hands. At dawn,

Telemachus and I can talk at length.”

At that Asphalion, the nimble house slave

of mighty Menelaus, poured the water

over their hands. They helped themselves to food

from laden tables. Then the child of Zeus,

Helen, decided she would mix the wine

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with drugs to take all pain and rage away,

to bring forgetfulness of every evil.

Whoever drinks this mixture from the bowl

will shed no tears that day, not even if

her mother or her father die, nor even

if soldiers kill her brother or her darling

son with bronze spears before her very eyes.

Helen had these powerful magic drugs

from Polydamna, wife of Thon, from Egypt,

where fertile fields produce the most narcotics:

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some good, some dangerous. The people there

are skillful doctors. They are the Healer’s 

She mixed the wine and told the slave to pour it,

and then she spoke again.

  “Now Menelaus,

and you two noble sons of noble men,

Zeus gives us good and bad at different times;

he has the power. Sit here then and eat,

and I will entertain you with a story.

Enjoy it; it is fitting to the times.

I cannot tell of all the challenges

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steadfast Odysseus has undergone.

But I will tell you what that brave man did

at Troy, when the Achaeans were in trouble.

He beat himself and bruised his body badly

and put a ragged cloak on, like a slave,

then shuffled through the enemy city streets.

In his disguise he seemed a poor old beggar,

hardly a man to sail with the Achaeans.

He crept through Troy like that, and no one knew him

except for me. I saw through his disguise

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and questioned him. He was too smart to talk,

acting evasive. But I washed and scrubbed him

with oil and dressed him, and I swore an oath

that I would not reveal him to the Trojans

before he had got back to his own camp.

He told me all the things the Greeks were planning.

On his way back, he used his long bronze sword

to slaughter many Trojans, and he brought

useful intelligence to tell the Greeks.

The Trojan women keened in grief, but I

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was glad—by then I wanted to go home.

I wished that Aphrodite had not made me

go crazy, when she took me from my country,

and made me leave my daughter and the bed

I shared with my fine, handsome, clever husband.”

And Menelaus said,

     “Yes, wife, quite right.

I have been round the world, and I have met

many heroic men and known their minds.

I never saw a man so resolute

as that Odysseus. How tough he was!

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And what impressive fortitude he showed

inside the Wooden Horse! We fighters lurked

inside, to bring destruction to the Trojans.

You came there too. Some spirit who desired

to glorify the Trojans urged you on.

Godlike Deiphobus was following 

Three times you went around the hollow belly,

touching the hiding place, and calling on

us Greeks by name; you put on different voices

for each man’s wife. Then I and Diomedes

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and good Odysseus, inside the horse,

heard you call out to us, and we two wanted

to go out, or to answer from in there.

Odysseus prevented us from going.

Then all the other sons of the Achaeans

were quiet; Anticlus still wished to answer.

Odysseus’ hands clamped shut his mouth

and saved us all. He held him there like that,

until Athena led you far away.”

Weighing these words, Telemachus replied,

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“But Menelaus, all this makes it worse!

My father’s courage could not save his life,

even if he had had a heart of iron.

So now, show us to bed. We need the comfort

of being lulled into a sweet deep sleep.”

Then Argive Helen told her girls to spread

beds on the porch and pile on them fine rugs

of purple, and lay blankets over them,

with woolly covers on the very top.

The girls went out with torches in their hands

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and made the beds. A slave led out the guests.

Telemachus and Nestor’s handsome son

slept in the front room; Menelaus slept

far back inside the lofty house. Beside him

lay marvelous Helen, in her flowing gown.

Soon Dawn was born, her fingers bright with roses.

Gruff Menelaus jumped up out of bed,

got dressed and strapped his sharp sword to his shoulder,

then tied his sandals on his well-oiled feet.

He went out of his bedroom like a god,

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approached Telemachus, and spoke to him.

“What need has brought you here, Telemachus,

to Sparta, over such expanse of sea?

Private or public business? Tell me truly!”

Telemachus inhaled and then replied,

“King Menelaus, son of Atreus,

I came in search of news about my father.

My house is being eaten up; our wealth

is ruined. My whole home is full of men

who mean me harm—my mother’s loutish suitors.

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Each day they kill more sheep, more longhorn cattle.

So I am begging you, here on my knees,

tell me the dreadful news, if he is dead!

Perhaps you saw it with your eyes, or heard

tales of his travels. He was surely born

to suffer in extraordinary ways.

Please do not try to sweeten bitter news

from pity; tell me truly if you saw him,

and how he was. If my heroic father

ever helped you at Troy when things were bad,

330

keep that in mind right now, and tell the truth.”

Flushed, Menelaus shouted out in anger,

“Damn them! Those cowards want to steal the bed

of one whose heart is braver than their own.

As when a deer lays down two newborn fawns,

still sucklings, in the lair of some strong lion,

and goes to look for pasture, over slopes

and grassy valleys; when the lion comes back

to his own bed, he brings down doom on them—

so will Odysseus upon those men.

340

O Father Zeus, Athena, and Apollo,

I pray he is as strong as when he stood

to wrestle Philomeleides, on Lesbos,

and hurled him to the ground, and we all cheered.

So may Odysseus attack the suitors.

May all their lives be brief, their weddings cursed!

As for your questions, I will not deceive you.

I will not hide a single word I heard

from that old Sea God Proteus. Although

I longed to come back home, away from Egypt,

350

the gods prevented me, since I had failed

to offer perfect hecatombs. They always

desire obedience. There is an island

out in the sea beside the coast of Egypt,

named Pharos. If a clear wind blows your ship,

it takes all day to travel to that island.

Its harbor has good anchorage, and there

men draw dark water up, and then launch off

to sea. But I was held for twenty days

by gods. No winds appeared to guide my ships

360

across the water’s back. All our supplies

would have been gone, and all our hope; but then

a goddess, Eidothea, pitied me—

the child of Proteus, the old sea god.

She met me pacing sadly all alone.

My men were off around the island, fishing

with hooks, as usual—hunger pinched their bellies.

She stood beside me and she spoke to me.

‘Stranger, are you so foolish that you choose

to give up, and take pleasure in your pain?

370

There is no end in sight; you have been stuck

here on this island for so long. Your men

grow weak at heart.’ I answered her and said,

‘Whoever you may be—for sure a goddess—

I tell you I am trapped against my will.

I must have sinned against the deathless gods

who live in heaven. Please explain which spirit

is blocking me from going home across

the teeming sea. Gods must know everything.’

That shining goddess answered me at once,

380

‘Stranger, I will be frank with you. A deathless

old sea god haunts this place, named Proteus

of Egypt, who can speak infallibly,

who knows the depths of seas, and serves Poseidon.

They say he is the one who fathered me.

If you can somehow lie in wait and catch him,

he will explain how you can get back home,

plotting your path where fish leap through the waters.

And if you wish it, prince, he will explain

what happened in your home, both good and bad,

390

while you were gone on this long, painful journey.’

Those were her words. I answered, ‘Tell me, please,

how I can trap this ancient god, so he

will not see me too soon, and get away.

It is not easy for a man to catch

a god.’ The goddess answered me at once,

‘Stranger, I will instruct you thoroughly.

When the sun hits the midpoint of the sky,

the old god bobs above the salty water;

the breath of Zephyr hides him in dark shade.

400

He goes to take his nap inside the caves.

Around him sleep the clustering seals, the daughters

of lovely Lady 
 Their breath smells sour

from gray seawater, pungent salty depths.

Select the three best men you have on board,

and when dawn breaks, I will take all of you

down to the shore, and set you in a line.

Let me explain the old god’s tricks. He will

first count the seals and walk around among them.

When he has counted them and checked them all,

410

he lies down in the middle, like a shepherd

among his flock of sheep. When you observe

him sleeping, gather all your force and strength,

and hold him there, despite his desperate struggles.

In trying to escape, he will change shape

to every animal on earth, and then

water and holy fire. You must hold fast

unshaken, and press harder; keep him down.

At last he will assume again the form

in which he went to sleep, and he will speak

420

and question you. Then, warrior, release

your forceful hold on that old god, and ask him

which god is angry with you, and the way

to cross the fish-filled waters and go home.’

With that she sank beneath the deep sea waves.

I went down to the ships upon the sand.

My heart was surging in me as I walked.

Arriving at the ships and at the shore,

we made our meal. Then came immortal night;

we went to sleep beside the water’s edge.

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When Dawn appeared, her fingers bright with flowers,

I walked beside the spreading sea, along

the dunes, and prayed intensely to the gods.

Then I chose out my three most trusted men.

The goddess dove down deep inside the sea

and brought four sealskins up from underwater,

new-flayed—to help her plot against her father.

She scooped out hiding places in the sand,

and sat to wait. We came right up to her.

She laid us in a row, and put a skin

440

on each. It would have been a dismal hideout,

stinking of salt-bred seals. Who would lie down

to rest beside a creature from the sea?

But she brought sweet ambrosia to save us.

She very kindly put it in our nostrils,

to take away the stench of seal. We waited

all morning, apprehensively. And then

out of the sea there rose a pod of seals;

they lay along the shore. At noon the god

emerged above the waves. He went among

450

his fatted seals and counted out their number.

He counted us among the first of them,

suspecting nothing. Then he lay down too.

With a great shout we pounced on him and grabbed him.

The old god still remembered all his tricks,

and first became a lion with a mane,

then snake, then leopard, then a mighty boar,

then flowing water, then a leafy tree.

But we kept holding on: our hearts stood firm.

At last that ancient sorcerer grew tired,

460

and then he asked me, ‘Son of Atreus!

What god devised this plan with you and taught you

to lurk and capture me against my will?

What do you want from me?’ And I replied,

‘Old god, why do you want to throw me off?

You know I have been trapped here on this island

for far too long, with no way out; my heart

grows faint. So tell me—gods know everything—

what spirit stops my journey? And how can I

get home across the watery shoals of fish?’

470

At once he answered me and told me this:

‘You should have given Zeus and other gods

fine offerings, to speed your journey home

across the wine-dark sea. It is your fate

not to go home or see the ones you love

until you go again to Egypt’s river,

watered by Zeus, and kill a hundred cows,

to please the deathless gods who live in heaven.

Then they will let you travel where you wish.’

I felt heartbroken that I had to cross

480

the misty sea and go again to Egypt:

a long and bitter journey! But I answered,

‘Sir, I will do exactly as you say.

But come now, tell me this, and tell me truly,

did all the Greeks sail safely home by ship,

whom Nestor and myself left there in Troy?

Did any meet a dreadful death at sea,

on his own ship, or in familiar arms,

after the war wound up?’ When I said this,

at once he answered me and said these words.

490

‘O son of Atreus! Why ask me this?

You have no need to know or learn my mind.

When I have told you, you will not be long

able to hold back tears. So many men

were killed, and many left behind at Troy.

Just two of all the bronze-clad captains died

while traveling back home; one more perhaps

may be alive, trapped somewhere out at sea.

Ajax was 
 his ships were sunk. Poseidon

first drove him to the rocks of Gyrae, then

500

rescued him from the sea; he would have lived,

despite Athena’s hatred, but he made

a crazy boast—that he survived the waves

against the wishes of the gods. Poseidon

heard his rash words. At once, he seized his trident

in mighty hands, and hit the Gyran rock.

One half remained; the other, on which Ajax

sat as he boasted, cracked right off and fell

into the sea, and carried him deep down.

The boundless waves washed over him; he drank

510

the salty brine, and died. But Agamemnon

survived—the goddess Hera saved his fleet.

When he had almost reached the craggy mountain

of Malea, a gust of wind took hold

and bore him over waves where fish were jumping,

across the rumbling depths to where all farms

are 
 where Thyestes used to live,

and now his son Aegisthus. After that,

the route was clear: the gods made all winds fair.

Then joyfully he set foot in his country,

520

and touched and kissed the earth of his dear home.

He wept hot floods of tears, from happiness.

But from the lookout post the watchman saw him.

Scheming Aegisthus paid that man two talents

of gold to watch all year, so Agamemnon

could not slip past unseen, or summon up

his will to fight. The spy rushed off to tell

the King. Aegisthus formed a plan at once.

He chose the twenty best men in the land

to lurk in ambush, and he told the house slaves

530

to cook a feast. He rode out on his carriage,

and summoned Agamemnon, who suspected

nothing. Aegisthus killed him over dinner,

just as a person kills an ox at manger.

All of the men who came with him were killed,

and all those of Aegisthus; all were killed.’

His story broke my heart, and I sat down

upon the sands and wept. I did not want

to go on living or to see the sun.

I thrashed around and wailed. When I was done,

540

the old Sea God spoke words of truth to me.

‘Now, son of Atreus, your endless weeping

has gone on long enough. It does no good.

Quickly, go home. You may still find Aegisthus

alive, or else Orestes may have come

and killed him; you can join his funeral.’

Those words made me a man again: my heart

was warmed inside, despite my grief. My words

took wings. I said, ‘I know now of those two;

but name the third who may be still alive,

550

trapped somewhere in the wide expanse of sea,

or may be dead. I know the news may hurt,

but still I want to hear it.’ And he answered,

‘It is Laertes’ son, the Ithacan.

I saw him crying, shedding floods of tears

upon Calypso’s island, in her chambers.

She traps him there; he cannot go back home.

He has no boats with oars or crew to row him

across the sea’s broad back to his own land.

But Menelaus, it is not your fate

560

to die in Argos. Gods will carry you

off to the world’s end, to Elysium.

Those fields are ruled by tawny Rhadamanthus

and life is there the easiest for humans.

There is no snow, no heavy storms or rain,

but Ocean always sends up gentle breezes

of Zephyr to refresh the people there.

You gain these blessings as the son-in-law

of Zeus through Helen.’ Then the old god sank

beneath the waves. I went back to my ships

570

and godlike men, and as I walked my mind

swirled with my many thoughts. Beside the fleet

we cooked and ate our meal, then holy night

came down; we slept beside the surging water.

When early Dawn appeared and touched the sky

with blossom, first we launched the balanced ships

into the salty sea, put up the masts

and fixed the sails, and then the men embarked

and sat on benches neatly, in their lines.

And then at once they struck the sea with oars.

580

We soon reached Egypt’s holy rain-fed river.

We docked the ships and sacrificed the oxen.

When I had quenched the anger of the gods,

I built a mound to honor Agamemnon,

for his immortal fame. The gods at last

gave me fair wind, and sent me quickly home.

But come now, stay with me here in my palace,

until eleven days or twelve have passed.

Then I will send you off with precious gifts,

three horses and a gleaming chariot.

590

Also a lovely cup so you can pour

gifts to the gods, and always think of me.”

Then tactfully Telemachus replied,

“Please do not keep me here so long, my lord.

Indeed, I would be glad to stay a year;

I would not even miss my home or parents—

I get such pleasure listening to you.

But my poor friends are surely tired of waiting

in Pylos. You have made me stay too long.

And for a gift, please only give me treasure.

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You keep your lovely horses here; I cannot

transport them all the way to Ithaca.

You rule these open meadows, rich in clover,

white barley in wide rows, and wheat and grass.

In Ithaca, there are no fields or racetracks.

Though it is only fit for goats, we love it

more than horse pasture. Islands out at sea

have no good grazing—ours the least of all.”

Then Menelaus smiled and clasped his hand,

and spoke to him in his loud booming voice.

610

“My boy, your words are proof of your good blood.

I will give different gifts, just as you ask.

I will give you the finest piece of treasure

of all the hoard I have piled up at home:

a finely crafted bowl, of purest silver,

with gold around the rim. Hephaestus made it,

and Phaedimus the king of Sidon gave it

to me, when I was visiting his house

as I was traveling home. You can have that.”

Such was their conversation. Then the guests

620

entered the palace, bringing lamb and wine

that gives one confidence. The girls, all dressed

in pretty scarves, brought bread for them. So went

the feasting in the house of Menelaus.

Meanwhile, outside Odysseus’ house,

the suitors were as arrogant as usual,

enjoying throwing discuses and spears

out on the playing field. The two chief suitors,

were sitting there: Antinous and godlike

Eurymachus. Just then Noëmon, son

630

of Phronius, approached and asked a question.

“So do we know, Antinous, or not,

whether Telemachus is coming back

from sandy Pylos? He left with my ship.

I need it, to cross over to the fields

of Elis, where I have twelve mares with mules

suckling their teats and not yet broken in.

I want to take and train one.”

   They were all

astonished, since they had not thought the boy

was gone to Pylos, but was somewhere near,

640

out with the sheep or pigs. Antinous

said,

“Tell me the truth, when did he go? And who

went with him? Did he choose some Ithacans,

or slaves and laborers? It could be either.

And tell me also, did he steal the ship

from you by force, or did you give it to him

freely, because he asked?”

  Noëmon, son

of Phronius, replied, “I gave it freely.

What could I do, when someone so upset

was asking me? A noble boy like that?

650

It would have been ungracious to refuse.

The young men who were with him were high class,

the best in town except ourselves. I saw

Mentor embark as captain—or perhaps

not Mentor but a god who looked like him.

This puzzles me, that yesterday at dawn

I saw great Mentor here, though he had gone

to Pylos in the ship.”

      With that, Noëmon

departed for his father’s house. Those leaders

were furious. At once they made the suitors

660

stop playing games and sit. Antinous

spoke up with eyes bright as fire, his mind

darkened with anger.

      “Damn! That stuck-up boy

succeeded in his stupid trip. We thought

he would not manage it. Telemachus

has launched a ship and picked an ideal crew,

despite us all! This is the start of worse.

May Zeus destroy his strength before he reaches

manhood. Give me a ship and twenty men,

so I may watch and catch him in the strait

670

in between Ithaca and craggy Same.

A sad end …

BOOK 10 The Winds and the Witch

“

We reached the floating island of Aeolus,

who is well loved by all the deathless gods.

Around it, on sheer cliffs, there runs a wall

of solid bronze, impregnable. Twelve children

live with him in his palace: six strong boys,

and six girls. He arranged their marriages,

one sister to each brother. They are always

feasting there with their parents, at a banquet

that never ends. By day, the savor fills

the house; the court reverberates with sound.

10

At night they sleep beside the wives they love

on rope beds piled with blankets.

      We arrived

at that fine citadel. He welcomed me

and made me stay a month, and asked for news

of Troy, the Argive ships, and how the Greeks

went home. I told him everything. At last

I told him he should send me on my way.

So he agreed to help me, and he gave me

a bag of oxhide leather and he tied

the gusty winds inside it. Zeus, the son

20

of Cronus, made him steward of the winds,

and he can stop or rouse them as he wishes.

He bound the bag with shining silver wire

to my curved ship, so no gust could escape,

however small, and he made Zephyr blow

so that the breath could carry home our ships

and us. But it was not to be. Our folly

ruined us. For nine days and nights we sailed,

and on the tenth, our native land appeared.

We were so near, we saw men tending fires.

30

Exhausted, I let sweet sleep overcome me.

I had been doing all the steering, hoping

that we would get home sooner if I did.

But while I slept my men began to mutter,

saying the great Aeolus gave me gifts—

silver and gold that I was taking home.

With glances to his neighbor, each complained,

‘It seems that everybody loves this man,

and honors him, in every place we sail to.

He also has that loot from sacking Troy.

40

We shared the journey with him, yet we come

back home with empty hands. And now Aeolus

has made this friendly gift to him. So hurry,

we should look in the bag, and see how much

is in there—how much silver, how much gold.’

That bad idea took hold of them; they did it.

They opened up the bag, and all the winds

rushed out at once. A sudden buffet seized us

and hurled us back to sea, the wrong direction,

far from our home. They screamed and I woke up,

50

and wondered if I should jump off the ship

and drown, or bite my lip, be stoical,

and stay among the living. I endured it,

covered my face, and lay on deck. A blast

of storm wind whooshed the ships back to the island

of great Aeolus. They began to weep.

We disembarked and filled our jars with water,

and hungrily the men devoured their dinner.

When they were done, I took one slave with me

and one crew member, back to see Aeolus.

60

He was at dinner with his wife and children.

We entered and sat down beside the doorposts.

Startled, they asked,

      ‘Why are you here again?

You had bad luck? What happened? Surely we

helped you go on your way, and meant for you

to reach your homeland, where you wished to go.’

I answered sadly, ‘Blame my men, and blame

my stubborn urge to sleep, which ruined us.

Dear friends, you have the power to put things right.’

I hoped these words would soften them, but they

70

were silent. Then the father yelled, ‘Get out!

You nasty creature, leave my island! Now!

It is not right for me to help convey

a man so deeply hated by the gods.

You godforsaken thing, how dare you come here?

Get out!’

  He roared and drove us from his palace.

Dispirited, we sailed away. The men

grew worn out with the agony of rowing;

our folly had deprived us of fair winds.

We rowed six days and nights; the seventh day

80

we came to Laestrygonia—the town

of Telepylus upon the cliffs of 

A herdsman there, returning to his home,

can greet another herdsman going 

A sleepless man could earn a double wage

by herding cows, then pasturing white sheep—

the paths of day and night are close 

We reached the famous harbor, all surrounded

by sheer rock cliffs. On each side, strips of shore

jut out and almost meet, a narrow mouth.

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No waves rear up in there, not even small ones.

White calm is everywhere. So all the others

harbored their ships inside, crammed close together.

I was the only one who chose to moor

my ship outside the harbor, fastening

the cables to a rock a way away.

I disembarked and climbed a crag to scout.

I saw no sign of cattle or of humans,

except some smoke that rose up from the earth.

I picked two men, and one slave as the third,

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and sent them to find out what people lived

and ate bread in this land. They disembarked

and walked along a smooth path, where the wagons

brought wood down from the mountains to the city.

They met a girl in front of town, out fetching

some water. She was heading for the fountain

of Artaky, the whole town’s water source.

She was the strapping child of Antiphates,

king of the Laestrygonians. They asked her

about the king and people of the country.

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She promptly took them to the high-roofed palace

of her own father. When they went inside

they found a woman, mountain-high. They were

appalled and shocked. The giantess at once

summoned the king her husband from the council;

he tried to kill my men, and grabbing one

he ate him up. The other two escaped,

back to the ship. The king’s shout boomed through town.

Hearing, the mighty Laestrygonians

thronged from all sides, not humanlike, but giants.

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With boulders bigger than a man could lift

they pelted at us from the cliffs. We heard

the dreadful uproar of ships being broken

and dying men. They speared them there like fish.

A gruesome meal! While they were killing them

inside the harbor, I drew out my sword

and cut the ropes that moored my dark-cheeked ship,

and yelling to my men, I told them, ‘Row

as fast as possible away from danger!’

They rowed at double time, afraid to die.

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My ship was lucky and we reached the sea

beyond the overhanging cliffs. The rest,

trapped in the bay together, were destroyed.

We sailed off sadly, happy to survive,

but with our good friends lost. We reached Aeaea,

home of the beautiful, dreadful goddess Circe,

who speaks in human languages—the sister

of Aeetes whose mind is set on ruin.

Those two are children of the Sun who shines

on mortals, and of Perse, child of Ocean.

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Under the guidance of some god we drifted

silently to the harbor, and we moored there.

For two days and two nights we lay onshore,

exhausted and our hearts consumed with grief.

On the third morning brought by braided Dawn,

I took my spear and sharp sword, and I ran

up from the ship to higher ground, to look

for signs of humans, listening for voices.

I climbed up to a crag, and I saw smoke

rising from Circe’s palace, from the earth

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up through the woods and thickets. I considered

if I should go down and investigate,

since I had seen the smoke. But I decided

to go back down first, to the beach and ship

and feed my men, and then set out to scout.

When I had almost reached my ship, some god

took pity on me in my loneliness,

and sent a mighty stag with great tall antlers

to cross my path. He ran down from the forest

to drink out of the river; it was hot.

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I struck him in the middle of his back;

my bronze spear pierced him. With a moan, he fell

onto the dust; his spirit flew away.

I stepped on him and tugged my bronze spear out,

and left it on the ground, while I plucked twigs

and twines, and wove a rope, a fathom’s length,

well knotted all the way along, and bound

the hooves of that huge animal. I went

down to my dark ship with him on my back.

I used my spear to lean on, since the stag

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was too big to be lugged across one shoulder.

I dumped him down before the ship and made

a comforting pep talk to cheer my men.

‘My friends! We will not yet go down to Hades,

sad though we are, before our fated day.

Come on, since we have food and drink on board,

let us not starve ourselves; now time to eat!’

They quickly heeded my commands, and took

their cloaks down from their 
 and they marveled

to see the big stag lying on the beach.

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It was enormous. When they finished staring,

they washed their hands and cooked a splendid meal.

So all that day till sunset we sat eating

the meat aplenty and the strong sweet wine.

When darkness fell, we went to sleep beside

the seashore. Then the roses of Dawn’s fingers

appeared again; I called my men and told them,

‘Listen to me, my friends, despite your grief.

We do not know where darkness lives, nor dawn,

nor where the sun that shines upon the world

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goes underneath the earth, nor where it rises.

We need a way to fix our current plight,

but I do not know how. I climbed the rocks

to higher ground to look around. This is

an island, wreathed about by boundless sea.

The land lies low. I saw smoke in the middle,

rising up through the forest and thick bush.’

At that, their hearts sank, since they all remembered

what happened with the Laestrygonians,

their King Antiphates, and how the mighty

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Cyclops devoured the men. They wept and wailed,

and shed great floods of tears. But all that grieving

could do no good. I made them wear their armor,

and split them in two groups. I led one,

and made Eurylochus command the other.

We shook the lots in a helmet made of bronze;

Eurylochus’ lot jumped out. So he

went with his band of twenty-two, all weeping.

Those left behind with me were crying too.

Inside the glade they found the house of Circe

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built out of polished stones, on high foundations.

Round it were mountain wolves and lions, which

she tamed with drugs. They did not rush on them,

but gathered around them in a friendly way,

their long tails wagging, as dogs nuzzle round

their master when he comes back home from dinner

with treats for them. Just so, those sharp-clawed wolves

and lions, mighty beasts, came snuggling up.

The men were terrified. They stood outside

and heard some lovely singing. It was Circe,

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the goddess. She was weaving as she sang,

an intricate, enchanting piece of work,

the kind a goddess fashions. Then Polites,

my most devoted and most loyal man,

a leader to his peers, said,

  ‘Friends, inside

someone is weaving on that massive loom,

and singing so the floor resounds. Perhaps

a woman, or a goddess. Let us call her.’

They shouted out to her. She came at once,

opened the shining doors, and asked them in.

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So thinking nothing of it, in they went.

Eurylochus alone remained outside,

suspecting trickery. She led them in,

sat them on chairs, and blended them a potion

of barley, cheese, and golden honey, mixed

with Pramnian 
 She added potent drugs

to make them totally forget their home.

They took and drank the mixture. Then she struck them,

using her magic wand, and penned them in

the pigsty. They were turned to pigs in body

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and voice and hair; their minds remained the same.

They squealed at their imprisonment, and Circe

threw them some mast and cornel cherries—food

that pigs like rooting for in muddy ground.

Eurylochus ran back to our black ship,

to tell us of the terrible disaster

that happened to his friends. He tried to speak,

but could not, overwhelmed by grief. His eyes

were full of tears, his heart was pierced with sorrow.

Astonished, we all questioned him. At last

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he spoke about what happened to the others.

‘Odysseus, we went off through the woods,

as you commanded. In the glade we found

a beautiful tall house of polished stone.

We heard a voice: a woman or a goddess

was singing as she worked her loom. My friends

called out to her. She opened up the doors,

inviting them inside. Suspecting nothing,

they followed her. But I stayed there outside,

fearing some trick. Then all at once, they vanished.

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I sat there for a while to watch and wait,

but none of them came back.’

  At this, I strapped

my silver-studded sword across my back,

took up my bow, and told him, ‘Take me there.’

He grasped my knees and begged me tearfully,

‘No no, my lord! Please do not make me go!

Let me stay here! You cannot bring them back,

and you will not return here if you try.

Hurry, we must escape with these men here!

We have a chance to save our lives!’

    I said,

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‘You can stay here beside the ship and eat

and drink. But I will go. I must do this.’

I left the ship and shore, and walked on up,

crossing the sacred glades, and I had almost

reached the great house of the enchantress Circe,

when I met Hermes, carrying his wand

of gold. He seemed an adolescent boy,

the cutest age, when beards first start to grow.

He took my hand and said,

   ‘Why have you come

across these hills alone? You do not know

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this place, poor man. Your men were turned to pigs

in Circe’s house, and crammed in pens. Do you

imagine you can set them free? You cannot.

If you try that, you will not get back home.

You will stay here with them. But I can help you.

Here, take this antidote to keep you safe

when you go into Circe’s house. Now I

will tell you all her lethal spells and tricks.

She will make you a potion mixed with poison.

Its magic will not work on you because

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you have the herb I gave you. When she strikes you

with her long wand, then draw your sharpened sword

and rush at her as if you mean to kill her.

She will be frightened of you, and will tell you

to sleep with her. Do not hold out against her—

she is a goddess. If you sleep with her,

you will set free your friends and save yourself.

Tell her to swear an oath by all the gods

that she will not plot further harm for you—

or while you have your clothes off, she may hurt you,

300

unmanning you.’

    The bright mercurial god

pulled from the ground a plant and showed me how

its root is black, its flower white as milk.

The gods call this plant 
 It is hard

for mortal men to dig it up, but gods

are able to do everything. Then Hermes

flew through the wooded island, back towards

high Mount Olympus. I went in the house

of Circe. My heart pounded as I walked.

I stood there at the doorway, and I saw her,

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the lovely Circe with her braided hair.

I called; she heard and opened up the doors

and asked me in. I followed nervously.

She led me to a silver-studded chair,

all finely crafted, with a footstool under.

In a gold cup she mixed a drink for me,

adding the drug—she hoped to do me harm.

I sipped it, but the magic did not work.

She struck me with her wand and said,

       ‘Now go!

Out to the sty, and lie there with your men!’

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But I drew my sharp sword from by my thigh

and leapt at her as if I meant to kill her.

She screamed and ducked beneath the sword, and grasped

my knees, and wailing asked me,

    ‘Who are you?

Where is your city? And who are your parents?

I am amazed that you could drink my potion

and yet not be bewitched. No other man

has drunk it and withstood the magic charm.

But you are different. Your mind is not

enchanted. You must be Odysseus,

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the man who can adapt to anything.

Bright flashing Hermes of the golden wand

has often told me that you would sail here

from Troy in your swift ship. Now sheathe your sword

and come to bed with me. Through making love

we may begin to trust each other more.’

I answered, ‘Circe! How can you command me

to treat you gently, when you turned my men

to pigs, and you are planning to play tricks

in telling me to come to bed with you,

340

so you can take my courage and my manhood

when you have got me naked? I refuse

to come to bed with you, unless you swear

a mighty oath that you will not form plans

to hurt me anymore.’

      When I said that,

at once she made the oath as I had asked.

She vowed and formed the oath, and then at last

I went up to the dazzling bed of Circe.

Meanwhile, four slaves, her house girls, were at work

around the palace. They were nymphs, the daughters

350

of fountains and of groves and holy rivers

that flow into the sea. One set fine cloths

of purple on the chairs, with stones beneath them.

Beside each chair, another pulled up tables

of silver and set golden baskets on them.

The third mixed up inside a silver bowl

sweet, cheering wine, and poured it in gold cups.

The fourth brought water, and she lit a fire

beneath a mighty tripod, till it boiled.

It started bubbling in the copper cauldron;

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she took me to the bathtub, and began

to wash my head and shoulders, using water

mixed to the perfect temperature, to take

my deep soul-crushing weariness away.

After the bath, she oiled my skin and dressed me

in fine wool cloak and tunic, and she led me

to a silver-studded well-carved chair, and set

a footstool underneath. Another slave

brought water for my hands, in a gold pitcher,

and poured it over them, to a silver bowl.

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She set a polished table near. The cook

brought bread and laid a generous feast, and Circe

told me to eat. But my heart was unwilling.

I sat there with my mind on other things;

I had forebodings. Circe noticed me

sitting, not touching food, and weighed by grief.

She stood near me and asked, ‘Odysseus!

why are you sitting there so silently,

like someone mute, eating your heart, not touching

the banquet or the wine? You need not fear.

380

Remember, I already swore an oath.’

But I said, ‘Circe, no! What decent man

could bear to taste his food or sip his wine

before he saw his men with his own eyes,

and set them free? If you are so insistent

on telling me to eat and drink, then free them,

so I may see with my own eyes my crew

of loyal men.’

     So Circe left the hall

holding her wand, and opened up the pigsty

and drove them out, still looking like fat boars,

390

large and full grown. They stood in front of her.

Majestic Lady Circe walked among them,

anointing each with some new drug. The potion

had made thick hog-hairs sprout out on their bodies.

Those bristles all flew off and they were men,

but younger than before, and much more handsome,

and taller. Then they recognized me. Each

embraced me tightly in his arms, and started

sobbing in desperation. So the house

rang loud with noise, and even she herself

400

pitied them. She came near to me and said,

‘Odysseus, you always find solutions.

Go now to your swift ship beside the sea.

First drag the ship to land, and bring your stores

and all your gear inside the caves. Then come

back with your loyal men.’

  My heart agreed;

I went down to my swift ship on the shore.

I found my loyal men beside the ship,

weeping and shedding floods of tears. As when

a herd of cows is coming back from pasture

410

into the yard; and all the little heifers

jump from their pens to skip and run towards

their mothers, and they cluster round them, mooing;

just so my men, as soon as they saw me,

began to weep, and in their minds it seemed

as if they had arrived in their own home,

the land of rugged Ithaca, where they

were born and raised. Still sobbing, they cried out,

‘Oh, Master! We are glad to see you back!

It is as if we had come home ourselves,

420

to Ithaca, our fatherland. But tell us

about how all our other friends were killed.’

I reassured them, saying, ‘First we must

drag up the ship to land, and put the stores

and all our gear inside the caves; then hurry,

all of you, come with me, and see your friends

inside the goddess Circe’s holy house,

eating and drinking; they have food enough

to last forever.’

  They believed my story,

with the exception of Eurylochus,

430

who warned them,

    ‘Fools! Why would you go up there?

Why would you choose to take on so much danger,

to enter Circe’s house, where she will turn us

to pigs or wolves or lions, all of us,

forced to protect her mighty house for her?

Remember what the Cyclops did? Our friends

went to his home with this rash lord of ours.

Because of his bad choices, they all died.’

At that, I thought of drawing my long sword

from by my sturdy thigh, to cut his head off

440

and let it fall down to the ground—although

he was close family. My men restrained me,

saying to me, ‘No, king, please let him go!

Let him stay here and guard the ship, and we

will follow you to Circe’s holy house.’

So they went up, away from ship and shore.

Eurylochus did not stay there; he came,

fearing my angry scolding.

   Meanwhile Circe

had freed the other men, and in her house

she gently bathed them, rubbing them with oil.

450

She had them dressed in woolen cloaks and tunics.

We found them feasting in the hall. The men,

seeing each other face-to-face again,

began to weep; their sobbing filled the hall.

The goddess stood beside me and said,

       ‘King,

clever Odysseus, Laertes’ son,

now stop encouraging this lamentation.

I know you and your men have suffered greatly,

out on the fish-filled sea, and on dry land

from hostile men. But it is time to eat

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and drink some wine. You must get back the drive

you had when you set out from Ithaca.

You are worn down and brokenhearted, always

dwelling on pain and wandering. You never

feel joy at heart. You have endured too much.’

We did as she had said. Then every day

for a whole year we feasted there on meat

and sweet strong wine. But when the year was over,

when months had waned and seasons turned, and each

long day had passed its course, my loyal men

470

called me and said,

     ‘Be guided by the gods.

Now it is time to think of our own country,

if you are fated to survive and reach

your high-roofed house and your forefathers’ land.’

My warrior soul agreed. So all day long

till sunset we kept sitting at the feast

of meat and sweet strong wine. But when the sun

set, and the darkness came, they went to bed

all through the shadowy palace. I went up

to Circe’s splendid bed, and touched her knees

480

in supplication, and the goddess listened.

‘Circe,’ I said, ‘Fulfill the vow you made

to send me home. My heart now longs to go.

My men are also desperate to leave.

Whenever you are absent, they exhaust me

with constant lamentation.’

  And she answered,

‘Laertes’ son, great King Odysseus,

master of every challenge, you need not

remain here in my house against your will.

But first you must complete another journey.

490

Go to the house of Hades and the dreadful

Persephone, and ask the Theban prophet,

the blind Tiresias, for his advice.

Persephone has given him alone

full understanding, even now in death.

The other spirits flit around as shadows.’

That broke my heart, and sitting on the bed

I wept, and lost all will to live and see

the shining sun. When I was done with sobbing

and rolling round in grief, I said to her,

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‘But Circe, who can guide us on this journey?

No one before has ever sailed to Hades

by ship.’

  And right away the goddess answered,

‘You are resourceful, King Odysseus.

You need not worry that you have no pilot

to steer your ship. Set up your mast, let fly

your white sails, and sit down. The North Wind’s breath

will blow the ship. When you have crossed the stream

of Ocean, you will reach the shore, where willows

let fall their dying fruit, and towering poplars

510

grow in the forest of Persephone.

Tie up your ship in the deep-eddying Ocean,

and go inside the moldering home of Hades.

The Pyriphlegethon and Cocytus,

a tributary of the Styx, both run

into the Acheron. The flowing water

resounds beside the rock. Brave man, go there,

and dig a hole a cubit wide and 

and round it pour libations for the dead:

first 
 then sweet wine, and the third

520

of water. Sprinkle barley, and beseech

the spirits of the dead. Vow if you reach

the land of Ithaca to kill a heifer

uncalved, the best you have inside your halls,

then you must heap the fire with good meat

and offer to Tiresias alone

a ram, pure black, the best of all your flock.

When you have prayed to all the famous dead,

slaughter one ram and one black ewe, directing

the animals to Erebus, but turn

530

yourself away, towards the gushing river.

Many will come. Then tell your men to skin

the sheep that lie there killed by ruthless bronze,

and burn them, with a prayer to mighty Hades

and terrible Persephone. Then draw

your sword and sit. Do not let them come near

the blood, until you hear Tiresias.

The prophet will soon come, and he will tell you

about your journey, measured out across

the fish-filled sea, and how you will get home.’

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Dawn on her golden throne began to shine,

and Circe dressed me in my cloak and tunic.

The goddess wore a long white dress, of fine

and delicate fabric, with a golden belt,

and on her head, a veil. Then I walked round,

all through the house, and called my men. I stood

beside each one, and roused them with my words.

‘Wake up! Now no more dozing in sweet sleep.

We have to go. The goddess gave instructions.’

They did as I had said. But even then

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I could not lead my men away unharmed.

The youngest one—Elpenor was his name—

not very brave in war, nor very smart,

was lying high up in the home of Circe,

apart from his companions, seeking coolness

since he was drunk. He heard the noise and bustle,

the movements of his friends, and jumped up quickly,

forgetting to climb down the lofty ladder.

He fell down crashing headlong from the roof,

and broke his neck, right at the spine. His spirit

560

went down to Hades.

      Then I told the others,

‘Perhaps you think that you are going home.

But Circe says we have to go towards

the house of Hades and Persephone,

to meet Tiresias, the Theban spirit.’

At that, their hearts were broken. They sat down

right there and wept and tore their clothes. But all

their lamentation did no good. We went

down to our speedy ship beside the sea,

despite our grief. We shed abundant tears.

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Then Circe came and tied up one black ewe

and one ram by the ship, and slipped away,

easily; who can see the gods go by

unless they wish to show themselves to us?”

BOOK 11 The Dead

“

We reached the sea and first of all we launched

the ship into the sparkling salty water,

set up the mast and sails, and brought the sheep

on board with us. We were still grieving, weeping,

in floods of tears. But beautiful, dread Circe,

the goddess who can speak in human tongues,

sent us a wind to fill our sails, fair wind

befriending us behind the dark blue prow.

We made our tackle shipshape, then sat down.

The wind and pilot guided straight our course.

10

All day the sails were spread; the ship sailed onwards.

The sun set. It was dark in all directions.

We reached the limits of deep-flowing Ocean,

where the Cimmerians live and have their city.

Their land is covered up in mist and cloud;

the shining Sun God never looks on them

with his bright beams—not when he rises up

into the starry sky, nor when he turns

back from the heavens to earth. Destructive night

blankets the world for all poor mortals there.

20

We beached our ship, drove out the sheep, and went

to seek the stream of Ocean where the goddess

had told us we must go. Eurylochus

and Perimedes made the sacrifice.

I drew my sword and dug a hole, a cubit

widthways and lengthways, and I poured libations

for all the dead: first honey-mix, sweet wine,

and lastly, water. On the top, I sprinkled

barley, and made a solemn vow that if

I reached my homeland, I would sacrifice

30

my best young heifer, still uncalved, and pile

the altar high with offerings for the dead.

I promised for Tiresias as well

a pure black sheep, the best in all my flock.

So with these vows, I called upon the dead.

I took the sheep and slit their throats above

the pit. Black blood flowed out. The spirits came

up out of Erebus and gathered round.

Teenagers, girls and boys, the old who suffered

for many years, and fresh young brides whom labor

40

destroyed in youth; and many men cut down

in battle by bronze spears, still dressed in armor

stained with their blood. From every side they crowded

around the pit, with eerie cries. Pale fear

took hold of me. I roused my men and told them

to flay the sheep that I had killed, and burn them,

and pray to Hades and Persephone.

I drew my sword and sat on guard, preventing

the spirits of the dead from coming near

the blood, till I had met Tiresias.

50

First came the spirit of my man Elpenor,

who had not yet been buried in the earth.

We left his body in the house of Circe

without a funeral or burial;

we were too occupied with other things.

On sight of him, I wept in pity, saying,

‘Elpenor, how did you come here, in darkness?

You came on foot more quickly than I sailed.’

He groaned in answer, ‘Lord Odysseus,

you master every circumstance. But I

60

had bad luck from some god, and too much wine

befuddled me. In Circe’s house I lay

upstairs, and I forgot to use the ladder

to climb down from the roof. I fell headfirst;

my neck was broken from my spine. My spirit

came down to Hades. By the men you left,

the absent ones! And by your wife! And father,

who brought you up from babyhood! And by

your son, Telemachus, whom you abandoned

alone at home, I beg you! When you sail

70

from Hades and you dock your ship again

at Aeaea, please, my lord, remember me.

Do not go on and leave me there unburied,

abandoned, without tears or lamentation—

or you will make the gods enraged at you.

Burn me with all my arms, and heap a mound

beside the gray salt sea, so in the future

people will know of me and my misfortune.

And fix into the tomb the oar I used

to row with my companions while I lived.’

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‘Poor man!’ I answered, ‘I will do all this.’

We sat there talking sadly—I on one side

held firm my sword in blood, while on the other

the ghost of my crew member made his speech.

Then came the spirit of my own dead mother,

Autolycus’ daughter 

whom I had left alive when I went off

to holy Troy. On seeing her, I wept

in pity. But despite my bitter grief,

I would not let her near the blood till I

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talked to Tiresias. The prophet came

holding a golden scepter, and he knew me,

and said,

  ‘King under Zeus, Odysseus,

adept survivor, why did you abandon

the sun, poor man, to see the dead, and this

place without joy? Step back now from the pit,

hold up your sharp sword so that I may drink

the blood and speak to you.’

   At that, I sheathed

my silver-studded sword. When he had drunk

the murky blood, the famous prophet spoke.

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‘Odysseus, you think of going home

as honey-sweet, but gods will make it bitter.

I think Poseidon will not cease to feel

incensed because you blinded his dear son.

You have to suffer, but you can get home,

if you control your urges and your men.

Turn from the purple depths and sail your ship

towards the island of Thrinacia; there

you will find grazing cows and fine fat sheep,

belonging to the god who sees and hears

110

all things—the Sun God. If you leave them be,

keeping your mind fixed on your journey home,

you may still get to Ithaca, despite

great losses. But if you hurt those cows, I see

disaster for your ship and for your men.

If you yourself escape, you will come home

late and exhausted, in a stranger’s boat,

having destroyed your men. And you will find

invaders eating your supplies at home,

courting your wife with gifts. Then you will match

120

the suitors’ violence and kill them all,

inside your halls, through tricks or in the open,

with sharp bronze weapons. When those men are dead,

you have to go away and take an oar

to people with no knowledge of the sea,

who do not salt their food. They never saw

a ship’s red prow, nor oars, the wings of boats.

I prophesy the signs of things to come.

When you meet somebody, a traveler,

who calls the thing you carry on your back

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a winnowing fan, then fix that oar in earth

and make fine sacrifices to Poseidon—

a ram, an ox, a boar. Then you will go

home and give holy hecatombs to all

the deathless gods who live in heaven, each

in order. Gentle death will come to you,

far from the sea, of comfortable old age,

your people flourishing. So it will be.’

I said, ‘Tiresias, I hope the gods

spin out this fate for me. But tell me this,

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and tell the truth. I saw my mother’s spirit,

sitting in silence near the blood, refusing

even to talk to me, or meet my eyes!

My lord, how can I make her recognize

that it is me?’

     At once he made his answer.

‘That is an easy matter to explain.

Whenever you allow one of these spirits

to come here near the blood, it will be able

to speak the truth to you. As soon as you

push them away, they have to leave again.’

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With that, Tiresias, the prophet spirit,

was finished; he departed to the house

of Hades. I stayed rooted there in place

until my mother came and drank the blood.

She knew me then and spoke in tones of grief.

‘My child! How did you come here through the darkness

while you were still alive? This place is hard

for living men to see. There are great rivers

and dreadful gulfs, including the great Ocean

which none can cross on foot; one needs a ship.

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Have you come wandering here, so far from Troy,

with ship and crew? Have you not yet arrived

in Ithaca, nor seen your wife at home?’

I answered, ‘Mother, I was forced to come

to Hades to consult the prophet spirit,

Theban Tiresias. I have not yet

come near to Greece, nor reached my own home country.

I have been lost and wretchedly unhappy

since I first followed mighty Agamemnon

to Troy, the land of horses, to make war

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upon the people there. But tell me, how

was sad death brought upon you? By long illness?

Or did the archer Artemis destroy you

with gentle 
 Tell me too about

my father and the son I left behind.

Are they still honored as the kings? Or has

another taken over, saying I

will not return? And tell me what my wife

is thinking, and her plans. Does she stay with

our son and focus on his care, or has

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the best of the Achaeans married her?’

My mother answered, ‘She stays firm. Her heart

is strong. She is still in your house. And all

her nights are passed in misery, and days

in tears. But no one has usurped your throne.

Telemachus still tends the whole estate

unharmed and feasts in style, as lords should do,

and he is always asked to council meetings.

Your father stays out in the countryside.

He will not come to town. He does not sleep

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on a real bed with blankets and fresh sheets.

In winter he sleeps inside, by the fire,

just lying in the ashes with the slaves;

his clothes are rags. In summer and at harvest,

the piles of fallen leaves are beds for him.

He lies there grieving, full of sorrow, longing

for your return. His old age is not easy.

And that is why I met my fate and died.

The goddess did not shoot me in my home,

aiming with gentle arrows. Nor did sickness

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suck all the strength out from my limbs, with long

and cruel wasting. No, it was missing you,

Odysseus, my sunshine; your sharp mind,

and your kind heart. That took sweet life from me.’

Then in my heart I wanted to embrace

the spirit of my mother. She was dead,

and I did not know how. Three times I tried,

longing to touch her. But three times her ghost

flew from my arms, like shadows or like dreams.

Sharp pain pierced deeper in me as I cried,

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‘No, Mother! Why do you not stay for me,

and let me hold you, even here in Hades?

Let us wrap loving arms around each other

and find a frigid comfort in shared tears!

But is this really you? Or has the Queen

sent me a phantom, to increase my grief?’

She answered, ‘Oh, my child! You are the most

unlucky man alive. Persephone

is not deceiving you. This is the rule

for mortals when we die. Our muscles cease

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to hold the flesh and skeleton together;

as soon as life departs from our white bones,

the force of blazing fire destroys the corpse.

The spirit flies away and soon is gone,

just like a dream. Now hurry to the light;

remember all these things, so you may tell

your wife in times to come.’

  As we were talking,

some women came, sent by Persephone—

the daughters and the wives of warriors.

They thronged and clustered round the blood. I wanted

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to speak to each of them, and made a plan.

I drew my sword and would not let them come

together in a group to drink the blood.

They took turns coming forward, and each told

her history; I questioned each. The first

was well-born Tyro, child of Salmoneus,

and wife of Cretheus, Aeolus’ son.

She fell in love with River Enipeus,

most handsome of all rivers that pour water

over the earth. She often went to visit

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his lovely streams. Poseidon took his form,

and at the river mouth he lay with her.

Around them arched a dark-blue wave that stood

high as a mountain, and it hid the god

and mortal woman. There he loosed her belt

and made her sleep. The god made love to her,

and afterwards, he took her hand and spoke.

‘Woman, be glad about this love. You will

bear glorious children in the coming year.

Affairs with gods always result in offspring.

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Look after them and raise them. Now go home;

tell no one who I am. But I will tell you.

I am Poseidon, Shaker of the Earth.’

With that he sank beneath the ocean waves.

She brought two sons to term, named Pelias

and Neleus, both sturdy boys who served

almighty Zeus; and Pelias’ home

was on the spacious dancing fields of Iolcus,

where sheep are plentiful; his brother lived

in sandy Pylos. And she bore more sons,

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to Cretheus: Aeson, Pheres, Amythaon

who loved war chariots.

       And after her

I saw Antiope, who said she slept

in Zeus’ arms and bore two sons: Amphion

and Zethus, the first settlers of Thebes,

city of seven gates. Strong though they were,

they could not live there on the open plain

without defenses.

    Then I saw Alcmene,

wife of Amphitryon, who by great Zeus

conceived the lionhearted Heracles.

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And I saw Megara, proud Creon’s child,

the wife of tireless Heracles. I saw

fine Epicaste, Oedipus’ mother,

who did a dreadful thing in ignorance:

she married her own son. He killed his father,

and married her. The gods revealed the truth

to humans; through their deadly plans, he ruled

the Cadmeans in Thebes, despite his pain.

But Epicaste crossed the gates of Hades;

she tied a noose and hung it from the ceiling,

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and hanged herself for sorrow, leaving him

the agonies a mother’s Furies bring.

Then I saw Chloris, who was youngest daughter

of Amphion, who ruled the Minyans

in Orchomenus. She was beautiful,

and Neleus paid rich bride-gifts for her.

She was the queen in Pylos, and she bore

Chromius, Nestor, Periclymenus,

and mighty Pero, who was such a marvel

that all the men desired to marry her.

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But Neleus would only let her marry

a man who could drive off the stubborn cattle

of Iphicles from Phylace. The prophet

Melampus was the only one who tried,

but gods restrained him, cursing him; the herdsmen

shackled him. Days and months went by, the seasons

changed as the year went by, until at last

Iphicles set him free as his reward

for 
 The will of Zeus was done.

And then I saw Tyndareus’ wife,

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Leda, who bore him two strong sons: the horseman

Castor, and Polydeuces, skillful boxer.

Life-giving earth contains them, still alive.

Zeus honors them even in the underworld.

They live and die alternately, and they

are honored like the 

  And then I saw

Iphimedeia, wife of Aloeus,

who proudly said Poseidon slept with her.

She had two sons whose lives were both cut short:

Otus and famous Ephialtes, whom

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the fertile earth raised up as the tallest heroes

after renowned Orion. At nine years,

they were nine cubits wide, nine fathoms high.

They brought the din of dreadful raging war

to the immortal gods and tried to set

Ossa and Pelion—trees, leaves and all—

on Mount Olympus, high up in the sky.

They might have managed it, if they had reached

full adulthood. Apollo, son of Zeus

by braided Leto, killed them: they were both

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dead before down could grow on their young chins,

dead before beards could wreathe their naked faces.

Then I saw Phaedra, Procris, and the lovely

daughter of dangerous 
 Ariadne.

Theseus tried to bring her back from Crete

to Athens, but could not succeed; the goddess

Artemis killed her on the isle of Día,

when Dionysus spoke against 
 Then

came Maera, Clymene and Eriphyle:

accepting golden bribes, she killed her 

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I cannot name each famous wife and daughter

I saw there; holy night would pass away

before I finished. I must go to sleep

on board the ship beside my crew, or else

right here. I know the gods and you will help

my onward journey.”

      They were silent, spellbound,

listening in the shadowy hall. White-armed

Arete spoke.

    “Phaeacians! Look at him!

What a tall, handsome man! And what a mind!

He is my special guest, but all of you

340

share in our rank as lords; so do not send him

away too fast, and when he leaves, you must

be generous. He is in need, and you

are rich in treasure, through the will of gods.”

The veteran Echeneus, the oldest

man in their company, said, “Our wise queen

has hit the mark, my friends. Do as she says.

But first Alcinous must speak and act.”

The king said, “Let it be as she has spoken,

as long as I am ruler of this nation

350

of seafarers. I know our guest is keen

to go back home, but let him stay till morning.

I will give all his presents then. You men

will all help him, but I will help the most,

since I hold power here.”

  Odysseus

answered with careful tact, “Alcinous,

king over all the people, if you urged me

to stay here for a year before you gave

the parting gifts and sent me on my way,

I would be happy. It would be far better

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to reach my own dear home with hands filled full

of treasure. So all men would honor me

and welcome me back home in Ithaca.”

Alcinous replied, “Odysseus,

the earth sustains all different kinds of people.

Many are cheats and thieves, who fashion lies

out of thin air. But when I look at you,

I know you are not in that category.

Your story has both grace and wisdom in it.

You sounded like a skillful poet, telling

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the sufferings of all the Greeks, including

what you endured yourself. But come now, tell me

if you saw any spirits of your friends,

who went with you to Troy and undertook

the grief and pain of war. The night is long;

it is not time to sleep yet. Tell me more

amazing deeds! I would keep listening

until bright daybreak, if you kept on telling

the dangers you have passed.”

    Odysseus

answered politely, “King Alcinous,

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there is a time for many tales, but also

a time for sleep. If you still want to hear,

I will not grudge you stories. I will tell you

some even more distressing ones, about

my friend who managed to escape the shrieks

and battle din at Troy but perished later,

killed in his own home by an evil wife.

Holy Persephone dispersed the ghosts

of women and they went their separate ways.

The ghost of Agamemnon came in sorrow

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with all the rest who met their fate with him

inside Aegisthus’ house. He recognized me

when he had drunk the blood. He wept out loud,

and tearfully reached out his hands towards me,

desperate to touch. His energy and strength

and all the suppleness his limbs once had

were gone. I wept and my heart pitied him.

I cried out,

    ‘Lord of men, King Agamemnon!

How did you die? What bad luck brought you down?

Was it Poseidon rousing up a blast

400

of cruel wind to wreck your ships? Or were you

killed on dry land by enemies as you

were poaching their fat flocks of sheep or cattle,

or fighting for their city and their wives?’

He answered right away, ‘King under Zeus,

Odysseus—survivor! No, Poseidon

did not rouse up a dreadful blast of wind

to wreck my ship. No hostile men on land

killed me in self-defense. It was Aegisthus

who planned my death and murdered me, with help

410

from my own wife. He called me to his house

to dinner and he killed me, as one slaughters

an ox at manger. What a dreadful death!

My men were systematically slaughtered

like pigs in a rich lord’s house for some feast,

a wedding or a banquet. You have seen

many cut down in war in thick of battle,

or slaughtered in a combat hand to hand;

but you would grieve with even deeper pity

if you could see us lying dead beneath

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the tables piled with food and wine. The floor

swam thick with blood. I heard the desperate voice

of Priam’s daughter, poor Cassandra, whom

deceitful Clytemnestra killed beside me.

As I lay dying, struck through by the sword,

I tried to lift my arms up from the ground.

That she-dog turned away. I went to Hades.

She did not even shut my eyes or close

my mouth. There is no more disgusting act

than when a wife betrays a man like that.

430

That woman formed a plot to murder me!

Her husband! When I got back home, I thought

I would be welcomed, at least by my slaves

and children. She has such an evil mind

that she has poured down shame on her own head

and on all other women, even good ones.’

I cried out, ‘Curse her! Zeus has always brought

disaster to the house of Atreus

through women. Many men were lost for Helen,

and Clytemnestra formed this plot against you

440

when you were far away.’

 At once he answered,

‘So you must never treat your wife too well.

Do not let her know everything you know.

Tell her some things, hide others. But your wife

will not kill you, Odysseus. The wise

Penelope is much too sensible

to do such things. Your bride was very young

when we went off to war. She had a baby

still at her breast, who must be now a man.

He will be glad when you come home and see him,

450

and he will throw his arms around his father.

That is how things should go. My wife prevented

my eager eyes from gazing at my son.

She killed me first. I have a final piece

of sound advice for you—take heed of it.

When you arrive in your own land, do not

anchor your ship in full view; move in secret.

There is no trusting women any longer.

But have you any news about my son?

Is he alive? Is he in Orchomenus,

460

or sandy Pylos, or with Menelaus

in Sparta? Surely my fine son Orestes

is not yet dead.’

  I answered, ‘Agamemnon,

why ask me this? I do not even know

whether he is alive or dead. It is

pointless to talk of hypotheticals.’

Both of us wept profusely, deeply grieving

over the bitter words we spoke. Then came

the spirits of Achilles and Patroclus

and of Antilochus and Ajax, who

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was handsomest and had the best physique,

of all the Greeks, next only to Achilles

the sprinter. And Achilles recognized me

and spoke in tears.

     ‘My lord Odysseus,

you fox! What will you think of next? How could you

bear to come down to Hades? Numb dead people

live here, the shades of poor exhausted mortals.’

I said, ‘Achilles, greatest of Greek heroes,

I came down here to meet Tiresias,

in case he had advice for my return

480

to rocky Ithaca. I have not even

returned to Greece, my homeland. I have had

bad luck. But no one’s luck was ever better

than yours, nor ever will be. In your life

we Greeks respected you as we do gods,

and now that you are here, you have great power

among the dead. Achilles, you should not

be bitter at your death.’

       But he replied,

‘Odysseus, you must not comfort me

for death. I would prefer to be a workman,

490

hired by a poor man on a peasant farm,

than rule as king of all the dead. But come,

tell me about my son. Do you have news?

Did he march off to war to be a leader?

And what about my father Peleus?

Does he still have good standing among all

the Myrmidons? Or do they treat him badly

in Phthia and Greece, since he is old

and frail? Now I have left the light of day,

and am not there to help, as on the plains

500

of Troy when I was killing the best Trojans,

to help the Greeks. If I could go for even

a little while, with all that strength I had,

up to my father’s house, I would make those

who hurt and disrespect him wish my hands

were not invincible.’

      I answered him,

‘I have no news to tell about your father,

but I can tell you all about your son,

dear Neoptolemus. I brought him from

Scyros by ship, with other well-armed Greeks.

510

When we were strategizing about Troy,

he always spoke up first and to the purpose,

unmatched except by Nestor and myself.

And when we fought at Troy, he never paused

in the great throng of battle; he was always

fearlessly running forward, and he slaughtered

enormous numbers in the clash of war.

I cannot name all those he killed for us.

But with his bronze he cut down Eurypylus,

the son of Telephus, most handsome man

520

I ever saw, next only to great Memnon.

The multitude of Cetians he brought

were also killed, since Priam bribed his 

When we, the Argive leaders, were preparing

to climb inside the Wooden Horse, it was

my task to open up and close the door.

The other Greek commanders were in tears;

their legs were shaking. Not your handsome boy!

I never saw his face grow pale; he had

no tears to wipe away. Inside the horse,

530

he begged me to allow him to jump out.

He gripped his sword hilt and his heavy spear,

so desperate to go hurt the Trojans.

At last, when we had sacked the lofty city

of Priam, he embarked weighed down with spoils.

No sharp bronze spear had wounded him at all;

he was unhurt by all the skirmishes

endured in war when Ares rages blind.’

After I told him this, Achilles’ ghost

took great swift-footed strides across the fields

540

of asphodel, delighted to have heard

about the glorious prowess of his son.

Other dead souls were gathering, all sad;

each told the story of his sorrow. Only

Ajax kept back, enraged because I won

Achilles’ armor, when the case was judged

beside the 
 The hero’s mother, Thetis,

and sons of Troy, and Pallas, gave the arms

to me. I wish I had not won this contest!

For those arms Ajax lies beneath the earth,

550

whose looks and deeds were best of all the Greeks

after Achilles, son of Peleus.

I spoke to him to try to make it up.

‘Please, Ajax, son of mighty Telamon,

can you not set aside your rage at me

about those cursed arms? Not even now,

in death? The gods made them to ruin us.

You were our tower; what a loss you were!

We Greeks were struck by grief when you were gone;

we mourned as long for you as for Achilles.

560

Blame nobody but Zeus. He ruined us,

in hatred for the army of the Greeks;

and that was why he brought this doom on you.

But listen now, my lord. Subdue your anger.’

He did not answer. He went off and followed

the spirits of the dead to Erebus.

Despite his rage, we might have spoken longer

if I had not felt in my heart an urge

to see more spirits. I saw Minos there,

the son of Zeus, who holds the golden scepter

570

and sits in judgment on the dead. They ask

their king to arbitrate disputes, inside

the house of Hades, where the doors are always

wide open. I saw great 
 chasing

across the fields of asphodel the beasts

he killed when living high in lonely mountains,

holding his indestructible bronze club.

And I saw Tityus, the son of 

stretched out nine miles. When Leto, Zeus’ lover,

was traveling to Pytho, through the fields

580

of beautiful Panopeus, he raped her.

Two vultures sit on either side of him,

ripping his liver, plunging in his bowels;

he fails to push them off. I saw the pain

of Tantalus, in water to his chin,

so parched, no way to drink. When that old man

bent down towards the water, it was gone;

some god had dried it up, and at his feet

dark earth appeared. Tall leafy trees hung fruit

above his head: sweet figs and pomegranates

590

and brightly shining apples and ripe olives.

But when he grasped them with his hands, the wind

hurled them away towards the shadowy clouds.

And I saw Sisyphus in torment, pushing

a giant rock with both hands, leaning on it

with all his might to shove it up towards

a hilltop; when he almost reached the peak,

its weight would swerve, and it would roll back down,

heedlessly. But he kept on straining, pushing,

his body drenched in sweat, his head all dusty.

600

I saw a phantom of great Heracles.

The man himself is with the deathless gods,

happy and feasting, with fine-ankled 

the child of mighty Zeus and golden Hera.

Around his ghost, the dead souls shrieked like birds,

all panic-struck. He walked like gloomy night,

holding his bow uncased and with an arrow

held on the string. He glowered terribly,

poised for a shot. Around his chest was strapped

a terrifying baldric made of gold,

610

fashioned with marvelous images of bears,

wild boars, and lions with fierce staring eyes,

and battles and the slaughtering of men.

I hope the craftsman who designed this scene

will never make another work like this.

This Heracles at once knew who I was,

and full of grief he cried,

 ‘Odysseus!

Master of every circumstance, so you

are also tortured by the weight of fortune

as I was while I lived beneath the sun?

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I was a son of Zeus, and yet my pain

was infinite. I was enslaved to someone

far less heroic than myself, who laid

harsh labors on me. Once he sent me here

to bring back Cerberus, since he could think

of no worse task for me. I brought the Dog

up out of Hades, with the help of Hermes,

and flashing-eyed Athena.’

  He went back

to Hades’ house. I stayed, in case more heroes

who died in ancient times should come to me.

630

I would have seen the noble men I hoped for,

Pirithous and Theseus, god-born.

But masses of the dead came thronging round

with eerie cries, and cold fear seized me, lest

the dreadful Queen Persephone might send

the monster’s head, the Gorgon, out of Hades.

So then I hurried back and told my men

to climb on board the ship and loose the cables.

They did so, and sat down along the benches.

The current bore the ship down River Ocean,

640

first with the help of oars, and then fair wind.”