HOMER: "ODYSSEY": BOOK XX: PRELUDE TO THE CRISIS.

HOMER: "ODYSSEY": BOOK XX: PRELUDE TO THE CRISIS.

Introduction:

Book XX sees the beginning of the Odyssey's 39th day of action, the day in which Odysseus takes his revenge on the suitors. During the night, Odysseus has lain sleepless in the porch, angered at the sight of some of the housemaids going to make love with the suitors, but Athene calms him, so he can sleep. In the morning, the suitors return to their feasting and revelling. Preparations are made for the festival of Apollo. Further insults are directed against Odysseus by the goat-herd Melanthius. He is then introduced by Eumaeus to a friendly herdsman, named Philoetius, who takes his side. The suitors are dissuaded from killing Telemachus by an unfavourable omen. One of the suitors, Ctesippus, throws a cow's foot at Odysseus, who just manages to dodge it. Ctesippus is then rebuked by Telemachus, whom another suitor, Agelaus, then seeks to appease. At the end of the Book Theoclymenus reappears, and in a ghastly vision prophesies the suitors' impending doom. But the suitors laugh at him and turn him out, and then resume their feasting. 

Ll. 1-43. Athene visits Odysseus. 

But the godlike Odysseus lay down to sleep in the entrance hall of the house; on the (ground) he spread an untanned oxhide, and above (it) many fleeces of sheep, which the Achaeans (i.e. the suitors) were accustomed to slaughter; and Eurynome (i.e. Penelope's house-keeper) put a blanket over him as he lay there. Odysseus lay there wide awake, contemplating evils in his heart for the wooers; and the women came forth from the hall, (those) that had formerly been wont to lie with the wooers. But his heart was stirred in his breast; and he pondered many (things) in his mind and in his heart, whether he should rush after (them) and deal death to each one, or whether he should still allow (them) to lie with the arrogant suitors for the last and final time, and his heart growled within him. And, as a bitch, standing (guard) over her tender whelps, growls and wants to fight a man she had failed to recognise, so he growled within him in anger at their wicked deeds; But, smiting his breast, he rebuked his heart with these words: "Hold out, my heart! for you once endured something more shaming (than this), on that day when the Cyclops, irrepressible in might (i.e. Polyphemus), devoured your sturdy comrades; but endure you did, until your cunning got you out of that cave where you expected you would die." 

So he spoke, upbraiding the dear heart in his breast; but his heart remained bound within, doggedly enduring; but he turned around this way and that. As when a man in the blaze of a great fire tosses this way and that a paunch stuffed with fat and blood, and longs (for it) to be very quickly roasted, so he is tossed from side to side, wondering how he might lay his hands upon the shameless wooers, being (one man) alone among many. Then, Athene descended  from heaven and came close to him; she looked like a woman in shape; and she stood above his head and said these words to him: "Why, pray, are you awake then, (you who are) ill-fated beyond all men? For this is your house, and this is your wife in the house, and your child, such (a man) as I believe anyone would wish to be his son." 

Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, said to her in reply: "Yes, goddess, all these (things) you say (are) true; but the heart in my breast is worrying about something, (namely) this: how I am going to lay my hands on these shameful suitors, when I am alone; for they are always here in a throng. And I am pondering in my heart about this (thing that is) even more difficult still: for even if I were to slay (them) by the will of Zeus and of yourself, how could I escape vengeance (i.e. on the part of the suitors' relatives)? I enjoin you to consider these (things)."    

Ll. 44-90. Penelope wishes that her life should end. 

Then, the bright-eyed goddess Athene spoke to him again: "(You) incorrigible (fellow), one that puts his trust in a weaker companion (than I am), (one) that is mortal and knows no such tricks (as I do); but I am a goddess, and I shall guard you always in all your toils. And I will speak to you quite openly: if fifty companies of men endowed with speech should surround the two of us, eager to slay (us) in battle, you would even drive off their cattle and fat sheep. But now, let sleep take hold of you; it is distressing to stay awake and keep watch the whole night through, and even now you will rise above your troubles."   

So she spoke, and shed sleep upon his eyelids, but she, herself, that most divine of goddesses went back to Olympus.

When sleep took hold of him, easing the cares of his heart, and relaxing his limbs, his trusty knowing wife awoke and wept as she sat upon her soft bed. But, since she had had her fill of weeping in accordance with her heart's desire, that most divine of women (i.e. Penelope) prayed first of all to Artemis: "Artemis, queenly goddess, daughter of Zeus, if only you would cast an arrow in my breast and take away my spirit now at this very hour, or that a storm-wind might snatch me up and rush along carrying me down murky paths and drop me at the mouth of the backward-flowing Ocean. (It was) like when the storm-winds carried off the daughters of Pandareus (i.e. a legendary king of Crete); the gods had slain their parents and they were left (as) orphans in the palace, and divine Aphrodite nourished (them) on cheese and sweet honey and mellow wine; then, Hera gave them beauty and wisdom above all women, and chaste Artemis gave (them) height, and Athene gave them the skills (i.e. spinning and weaving) to make beautiful (things). While the divine Aphrodite went to high Olympus to ask for the fulfilment of a happy marriage for the girls - (she went) to Zeus, who delights in thunder, for he knows all (things) well, both the destiny and the ill-fortune of mortal men - ; meanwhile, the storm-winds snatched away the girls and gave (them) to the hateful Erinyes (i.e. the Fates) to deal with; (you) who have your dwellings on Olympus (i.e the gods), may you annihilate me like that, or may the fair-tressed Artemis smite me, so that I may sink beneath the hateful earth with Odysseus still vivid in my mind, and not gladden in any way the mind of a lesser man. But grief is bearable, whenever one can weep during the day, with one's heart grieving exceedingly, but at night sleep takes hold of one - for it brings forgetfulness of everything, good and bad (alike), once it envelops the eyelids - but a god also sends me bad dreams. For during this night there again slept by my side (one) like him, such as he was when he went away with the army; but my heart rejoiced, since I considered it was no dream, but now (it was) reality.   

Ll. 91-133. Zeus sends favourable omens.

So she spoke, and golden-throned Dawn came at once. And as she (i.e. Penelope) wept, godlike Odysseus heard her voice; then, he pondered, and it seemed to his heart that (she,) already recognising (him), was standing beside his head. He took up the cloak and sheepskins, in which he slept, and put (them) down on a chair in the hall, and he carried the oxhide to the door and put (it) down, and, lifting his hands, he prayed to Zeus: "Father Zeus, if at your wish (you gods) have brought me over dry land and sea to my own country, after you have (so) sorely maltreated me, let one of those men who are awaking utter a word of good omen for me inside (the palace), and let some other portent of Zeus appear outside (it)."   

So she spoke in prayer; and Zeus the counsellor heard him, and at once thundered from a clear sky high above the clouds; and godlike Odysseus rejoiced. And a female slave grinder let out some words from within a building in a place nearby, where sat the mill-stones belonging to the shepherd of the people, (and) all twelve women got on with their task of grinding barley and wheat, the marrow of men's (diet). Now, the others were sleeping, for they had ground their wheat, but she alone had not yet ceased, for she was the weakest at this work; then, she stopped her mill-stone and spoke these words as a sign to her master: "Father Zeus, (you) who rules over both gods and men, loudly indeed have you thundered from a starry sky, for there is no cloud anywhere; now this must be a portent that you show some (man). Now tell even the wretched me the words that I shall speak; and may the wooers hold their welcome feast this day in the halls of Odysseus for the last and final time; and those who have loosened my knees by bitter labour as I made their barley-meal, may they now sup their last." 

So she spoke, and godlike Odysseus was glad at the words of omen, and at the thunder of Zeus; for he thought that the sinners would be punished. 

The other handmaids had come together in the fine palace of Odysseus, and made up the tireless fire on the hearth. And the godlike man Telemachus rose from his bed and put on his clothing; and he slung his sharp sword about his shoulder; and beneath his feet he bound some beautiful sandals, and he took up his mighty spear, tipped with sharp bronze. And then he went and stood upon the threshold, and spoke to Eurycleia: "Dear nurse, have you honoured the stranger in our house with a bed and some food, or does he lie neglected? For such (is the way of) my mother, wise though she is; for she rashly honours one (who is) a lesser man among mortals, but she sends away the better (man) without honour."  

Ll. 134-182. The servants prepare the house.

Then, the wise Eurycleia spoke to him once more: "Now, child do not blame her, (when she is) blameless. For he sat (there) and drank wine for as long as he wanted, but, as for food, he was not hungry at all; for she asked him. But, when he came to think of going to bed and sleeping, she bade the handmaids lay out his bed, but, he, as one wholly wretched and unhappy, did not want to sleep on a bed and among blankets, but on an untanned oxhide and the fleeces of sheep, and he slept in the hallway; and we spread a cloak over (him)." 

So she spoke, and Telemachus went along through the hall, holding his spear, and two swift-footed hounds followed him. And he went his way to the place of assembly to join the well-greaved Achaeans. But the most divine of women, Eurycleia, the daughter of Ops, the son of Peisenor, called out to her handmaids, (saying): "Come on (now), may some of you work hard at sweeping the hall, and sprinkling (water on it), and may you throw the purple coverlets on to those well-made chairs; and let others wipe all the tables with sponges, and cleanse the mixing-bowls and well-wrought double cups; and let others go to the spring for water, and go and bring (it here) as quickly as possible. For the suitors will not be away from the hall for long, but they will return quite early, since (it is) a feast day for all (of us)."  

So she spoke; and they readily hearkened to her and obeyed. Twenty of them went to the spring of dark water, and the others busied themselves there in the house in skilful fashion. Then in came the men-servants; and they split logs well and skilfully, and the women came back from the spring; and after them came the swineherd (i.e. Eumaeus), driving three fatted hogs, which were the pick of all (his beasts). And then he himself spoke warm (words) to Odysseus: "Stranger, do the Achaeans look at you with any more respect, or do they dishonour you in the house. just like (they did) before?"   

Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, spoke to him in reply: "Now if only, Eumaeus, the gods, might make them pay for the mistreatment which these (men), in their blind folly, insultingly devise in another (man)'s house, nor do they have any place for shame. 

While they were saying such (things) to each other, Melanthius, the herder of goats, came near to them, driving the she-goats, that were the best in all the herds, for the suitors' dinner. And two herdsmen followed after him. And he tethered the (goats) beneath the echoing portico, and then he himself spoke these stinging (words) to Odysseus: "Are you still even now a source of vexation (to us) here in the hall, begging men (for alms), but not taking yourself off outside? Plainly I think, the two of us shall not part company until we have tasted each other's fists, since you do not beg in a decent manner; also, there are other feasts of the Achaeans."   

Ll. 183-225. Philoetius, the loyal cowherd. 

So he spoke, but Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, said nothing to him, but shook his head in silence, and meditated evil (things) in the depths of his heart.

And in addition to them, there came a third (man), Philoetius, a leader of men, driving a barren heifer and plump she-goats for the suitors. Ferrymen had brought these (men) over, and they conduct other men too, whoever may come to them. The (beasts) he firmly tethered beneath the echoing portico, but he himself stood close to the swineherd and asked (him) this: "Who (is) this stranger, (who) has recently come to our home? From what men does he profess (himself) to be (sprung) from? Where now (are) his family and his native-land? An ill-starred (man he is), yet, in truth, in his bearing he is like a lordly king; but the gods plunge much-wandering men into misery, whenever they assign (to them the threads of) woe, even (though they are) kings."

And at this he (i.e. Philotheus) stood beside (him) (i.e. Odysseus), and greeted (him) with his right hand, and, in speaking to him, he said these winged words: "Welcome, old friend! May happiness come to you in the future, though now you bear many troubles. Father Zeus, no other one of the gods (is) more baneful than you; you have no pity on men, even when you yourself give birth (to them), (but) you acquaint (them) with grief and miserable woes. When I saw (you), I began to sweat, and my eyes fill with tears when I think of Odysseus, for he too, I think has on such rags and wanders around among men like a beggar. if, indeed, he still lives and beholds the light of the sun. But, if he is already dead and (is) in the halls of Hades, then woe is me, for the wonderful Odysseus, who set me over his cattle, when I was still a youth, in the country of the Cephallenians. And now they are beyond counting, and in no other way, for a man at any rate, could a stock of broad-fronted cattle be increased in number like ears of corn; but strangers bid me bring them for themselves to eat; and they have no concern at all for the son in the house, nor do they fear the vengeance of the gods; for now they are eager to divide among themselves the possessions of our lord, absent as he has been for so long. But the heart in my own dear breast keeps revolving (this matter) constantly: a very evil (thing it is), while there is a son present, to go with my cattle and come to a land of strangers, among alien folk; but it (is) more horrible to remain here, and to suffer woes while encamped among cattle (that have passed) into (the hands) of others. Now might I have fled long ago and come to another of the very mighty kings, since (things) are no longer endurable; but I still think of that unhappy (man), if perchance he may return and make a scattering of the suitor-men throughout his palace."  

Ll. 226-267. Odysseus among the suitors.

Then the astute Odysseus said to him in reply: "Herdsman, since you seem to be neither a bad (man) nor (one) without sense, and I can see for myself that you have an understanding heart, therefore I shall speak to you and I shall swear a binding oath: now I swear by Zeus before (all) the gods and by the hospitable table and hearth of the blameless Odysseus, to which I am come, that, while you are here, Odysseus will come home, and you will see with your own eyes, if you wish, the slaying of the wooers who lord (it) here." Then, the herdsman of the cattle addressed him again: "If only, (O) stranger, the son of Cronos would fulfil these words (of yours); then you would know what sort of strength (is) mine and (how) my hands would follow." 

And so in like manner did Eumaeus pray to all the gods that the very sagacious Odysseus might come back to his own home. 

So they said such (things) to one another, and the suitors were planning death and doom for Telemachus; but a bird came to them on their left, a soaring eagle (it was), and it was clutching a timid dove. Then, Amphinomus spoke to them in their assembly and said: "My friends, this plot (of ours) to murder Telemachus will not go well for us; so let us concentrate on the feast." 

So spoke Amphinomus, and his words were pleasing to them. Then, going into the house of godlike Odysseus, they put down their cloaks on the chairs and high seats, and they began to sacrifice great sheep and fat goats, and they slew fattened swine and cattle from the herd; then, they roasted the entrails and distributed (them), and they mixed the wine in the bowls; and the swineherd (i.e. Eumaeus) gave out the cups, and Philoetius, leader of men, handed them bread in a beautiful basket, and Melanthius poured the wine. And they put forth their hands to the (good) food set down just in front of (them)

But Telemachus, revolving shrewd thoughts in his mind, made Odysseus sit within the well-built hall beside the stone threshold, and put down (for him) a battered stool and a small table; and beside (him) he set portions of the entrails and poured wine in a gold cup, and he said these words to him: "Now, sit down here among these men, as you drink your wine; and I myself shall ward off from you the insults and blows of all the wooers, for this, let me tell you, is not a public house, but it belongs to Odysseus, and he acquired (it) for me. And for your part, (you) wooers, do keep insults and blows away from your thoughts, so that no strife and brawl may arise." 

Ll. 268-298. Ctesippus prepares to abuse Odysseus. 

So he spoke, and they all bit their lips with their teeth and marvelled at Telemachus, who spoke (so) boldly. Then, Antinous, son of Eupeithes, addressed them: "Hard though it be, Achaeans, let us accept the words of Telemachus; but he does speak to us in a very threatening manner. For Zeus, the son of Cronos, did allow (it), otherwise we should have stopped him in the halls already, shrill speaker though he is."

Thus spoke Antinous; but he (i.e. Telemachus) paid no heed to his words. Meanwhile, the heralds were leading through the town the holy hecatomb of the gods (i.e. the hundred beasts destined for sacrifice); and the long-haired Achaeans gathered together in the shady grove of Apollo the Far-shooter. But, when they had roasted the outer flesh and taken (it) off (the spit), they divided up the portions and laid on a glorious feast; and (those) who laboured put beside Odysseus the same-sized portion as they themselves had obtained; for so Telemachus, the dear son of Odysseus, had commanded. 

But Athene would by no means allow the arrogant suitors to abandon their grievous insults, so that (bitter) anguish might sink still further into the heart of Laertes' son, Odysseus. There was among the wooers a certain man bent on lawlessness, and his name was Ctesippus, and he dwelt in a house in Same (i.e. an island near Ithaca, now called Cephellonia); then he, trusting in his wondrous possessions, went on wooing the wife of Odysseus, who had been gone for so long. (He it was) who now spoke among the haughty wooers: "Hear me (you) proud wooers, so that I may say something: now the stranger has long had an equal portion, as seems suitable, for it is neither fair nor just to deprive any of the guests of Telemachus who may come to this house. But come I will give him a gift suitable for a visitor, so that he himself may also give a present to the bath-attendant or to some other of the servant-women who (are) in the house of godlike Odysseus."

Ll. 299-344. Telemachus rebukes Ctesippus.                               

Thus speaking, he (i.e. Ctesippus) flung with his strong hand the hoof of an ox, taking it from the basket (where it) lay; but Odysseus avoided (it) by quickly turning his head, and, in his anger, he gave a most bitter smile; and it struck the well-built wall of the house. Then, Telemachus rebuked Ctesippus with these words: "For sure, Ctesippus, it was beneficial to you in your heart that you did not hit the stranger; for he himself avoided your missile. for otherwise, I would have struck you in the midst with my sharp spear, and instead of a wedding feast your father would have had to provide a funeral here in this place. Therefore, let no man bring about an outrage in my house; for now I appreciate and understand everything, both the good and the bad; whereas before I was still a child. But, all the same, we still have to endure the sight of these (things), the sheep being slaughtered and the wine and the food being consumed; for hard (it is) for one man to curb many, But come, no longer do me harm of your own ill-will; but if, even now, you are minded to slay me myself with the sword, I would prefer even that, and indeed it would be much better to die, than continually to behold these disgraceful deeds, that is, strangers being maltreated and women servants being shamefully dragged through these fair chambers." 

So he spoke, and in the silence they all fell silent; but, at last, Agelaus, the son of Damastor, then spoke out: "No man, having been accosted by things that were justly spoken, would show anger with wrangling words; do not maltreat the stranger in any way, nor any of the slaves that are in the household of the divine Odysseus. But to Telemachus and his mother I would say a gentle word, if it should be pleasing to the hearts of both of them. So long as the hearts in your breasts had cause to hope that wise Odysseus would return to his own house, then there were no grounds for resentment that you waited and restrained the suitors in your halls, for this was the better (course), should Odysseus have returned and come back to his house; but now (it is) clear that he is no longer coming home. But come, sit beside your mother and tell (her) this, that she must marry whoever (is) the best man and offers (her) the most (gifts), so that you can enjoy the disbursement of all your fathers food and drink, and she can look after another (man's) house."

Then, wise Telemachus said to him in reply: "Nay, by Zeus, Agelaus, and by the woes of my father, who has perished or is wandering around somewhere far from Ithaca, in no way am I hindering the marriage of my mother, but I bid (her) marry whatever (man) she wished, and, besides, I am offering (her) unspeakably great gifts. But I should be ashamed to drive (her) from this house against her will by a  word of compulsion; may God never bring such (a thing) to pass." 

Ll. 345-394. The vision of Theoclymenus.

So spoke Telemachus; but Pallas Athene aroused uncontrollable laughter in the suitors and befuddled their wits. And now they laughed with the mouths of others, and the meat they ate was bespattered with blood; and their eyes were filled with tears, and their hearts foretold weeping; then, godlike Theoclymenus also addressed them: "Ah, (you) wretched (men), what (is) this evil you are suffering? Shrouded in night (are) your heads and your faces, and the knees beneath (them). And lamentation blazes forth and your cheeks are wet with tears, and the walls and the fair rafters are dripping with blood; and the door-way (is) full of ghosts, and the courtyard (is) also full (of them), on their way down to Erebos (and) into the darkness; and the sun is blotted out of heaven, and an evil mist hovers over (everything)." 

So he spoke, but they all laughed pleasantly at him. Then, among them Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak: "Mad is the stranger (who has) newly come from abroad. But quick, boys, send him out of the house to make his way to the place of assembly, since he thinks this (place) is like night."

Then, godlike Theoclymenus spoke again to him: "In no way do I urge you to send me escorts; I have eyes, and ears, and two feet, and a mind in my breast (that is) not all meanly fashioned. With these, I shall go forth outside, since I foresee evil coming upon you that not one of (you) suitors can secretly escape or avoid, (you) who insult men and devise wicked (schemes) in the house of godlike Odysseus."

So saying, he left the stately halls and came to Peiraeus, who readily received him. But all the wooers, looking at one another, sought to provoke Telemachus (by) laughing at his guests; and thus did one of the proud youths say: "There is no other man more unlucky than you in his guests: for you keep such a man as this needy vagabond, (always) wanting bread and wine, and skilled neither in the works (of husbandry) nor of war, but just a dead-weight on the earth. And now this other man has stood up and prophesied. But if you would listen to me a little, this would be a much better (thing to do): let us sling these strangers into a well-benched ship and send (them) to the Sicilians, and this would fetch you a  worthy (price)." So spoke the wooers; yet he paid no attention to their words, but he silently looked at his father, awaiting (the moment) when he would lay his hands on the shameless suitors.

But the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, had placed her very beautiful chair over against (them), and heard the words of each of the men in the hall. For they had prepared their meal in the midst of their laughing, sweet and agreeable to the taste (it was), for they had slaughtered a great many (beasts); but never could a meal be more unappetising than the one which a goddess and a mighty man would soon set before (them); for previously they (i.e. the suitors) were devising (deeds of) shame.