Introduction:
In what was undoubtedly the most popular book of the "Odyssey" in later classical times, and probably beforehand, the story reaches its climax in Book XXII, when Odysseus is enabled to take his revenge on the suitors and recover his possessions. The action is still taking place on the 39th day of the "Odyssey": Odysseus, assisted by his son Telemachus and his two friendly servants, Eumaeus and Philoetius, and helped by Athene, disguised as Mentor, slaughter the suitors. The house is then cleansed, the faithless women servants are hanged, and the traitor Melanthius is gruesomely mutilated and killed.
Ll. 1-41. Odysseus slays Antinous.
Then, Odysseus, that man of many wiles, stripped off his ragged garments, and leapt on to the great threshold with his bow and his quiver full of arrows, and poured forth his swift arrows just there in front of his feet, and he spoke among the suitors: "In very truth, this dangerous contest has been brought to an end; now, however, I will know another target which no man has ever struck, if I can hit (it) and Apollo grants my prayer."
He spoke and aimed a pointed shaft at Antinous. Now indeed, he was about to raise a fair goblet to his lips, a two-handled cup of gold (it was), and he was holding (it) in his hands in order to drink the wine; and death was not in his thoughts; and who would have foreseen that one man among the many men that sat as guests at the table, even if he were very strong, would have brought evil death and black fate upon him? But Odysseus took aim and smote him with an arrow in the throat, and its point went right through his tender throat. And he lurched to one side, and the cup fell from his hands as he was struck, and at once there came through his nostrils a thick jet of man's blood; and he quickly thrust the table from him with a kick of the foot, and the food spilled on to the floor; and the bread and the roasted flesh were defiled And the suitors caused an uproar throughout the halls, when they saw the man had fallen, and they sprang from their seats, driven in confusion through the halls, and gazing eagerly in all directions along the well-built walls; but nowhere was there a shield or a mighty spear to seize. But they upbraided Odysseus with angry words: "Stranger, you shoot at men to your cost; never shall you take part in other contests; now (is) your utter destruction sure. For now you have slain a man, who (was) by far the best of the young men in Ithaca; so shall the vultures devour you here (i.e. you will be deprived of funeral rites)."
So spoke each man, for, in truth, they thought that he had not meant to slay the man; and this, poor fools, they did not know, that upon (each) one of them the bonds of death had been fastened. Then, looking askance, the quick-witted Odysseus answered them: "You dogs, you thought that I should never come home, returning from the land of the Trojans, (seeing) that you wasted my house, and lay by force with the maidservants, and you secretly courted my wife, though I was (still) alive, without fearing the gods who hold broad heaven, nor that vengeance of men that will come hereafter; and now upon every (one) of you the bonds of death have been fastened."
Ll. 42-78. Eurymachus leads the resistance against Odysseus.
So he spoke, and pallid fear seized hold of them all; and each (man) looked around (to see) how he might escape utter destruction. But Eurymachus alone answered him and said: "Now if you really are Odysseus of Ithaca having returned home again, those (things) which you have been saying with regard to what the Achaeans have done, many wanton (deeds) in your halls and in the field, (are) right. But he who was responsible for (them) all now lies dead, (namely) Antinous; for he caused these deeds to happen, not so much desiring or needing marriage, but contemplating some other (things), which the son of Cronos did not bring about for him, that in the land of well-built Ithaca he himself might be king, and that he might lie in wait for your son (i.e. Telemachus) and kill (him). But now he lies slain deservedly, but do you spare your people; and hereafter we shall make amends throughout the land, for everything that has been drunk and eaten in your halls, and will bring (you) recompense, each man separately, to the value of twenty oxen, and we shall pay you in bronze and gold, until your heart be warmed; until then, your wrath is in no respect a cause for righteous indignation."
Then, with a scowl, Odysseus, the man of many wiles, answered him: "Eurymachus, not even if you gave me all (the things) that your father left you, and all (the things) that you now have, and anything else that you might acquire hereafter, not even then could I stay my hands from slaughter until the suitors have paid the price for all their transgressions. Now it lies before you to fight face to face or to flee, if any (man) shall avoid death and the fates; but I do not think that any (man) shall escape from utter destruction."
So he (i.e. Odysseus) spoke, and their knees were loosened and their hearts (were melted). Then, Eurymachus spoke to them again for a second time: "My friends, for this man will not stay his invincible hands, but, since he has got the polished bow and its quiver, he will shoot from the smooth threshold until he slays us all; but (come), let us turn our minds to battle. Draw your swords and hold up the tables against his arrows that bring swift death; and let us all have at him in a body, in the hope that we can thrust him from the threshold and the doorway, and let us go through the city, and may there be a swift alarm; so then shall this man have swiftly shot his last (bolt)."
Ll. 79-125. Odyesseus and Telemachus kill Eurymachus and Amphinomus.
So saying, he (i.e. Eurymachus) drew his sharp sword of bronze, sharpened on both sides, and he leapt upon him, shouting fearfully; but, at the same time, godlike Odysseus let fly an arrow, and it struck (him) on the breast beside the nipple, and the swift shaft stuck in his liver; and he let the sword fall from his hand to the ground, and, sprawling over the table, he doubled up and fell, and he spilled the food and the two-handled cup on the floor; and, distressed in his mind, he beat the ground with his forehead and kicked and shook his chair with both his feet; and a mist was shed over his eyes.
Then, Amphinomus went for glorious Odysseus, darting straight at him, and he drew his sharp sword to see if he would give way to him at the door. But Telemachus anticipated him and struck (him) from behind between the shoulders with his bronze-tipped spear, and drove (it) through his breast; and he fell with a crash, and struck the ground with the whole of his forehead. But Telemachus sprang back, leaving his long-shafted spear there in Amphinomus; for he was very much afraid that, as he was drawing forth the long-shafted spear, one of the Achaeans might rush (upon him) and stab him with a sword or smite (him) as he was looking downwards. Then, he began to run, and came very quickly to his father, and, standing nearby (him), he spoke these winged words: "Father, now I will bring you a shield and two spears, and a helmet of bronze fitted to your temples, and, when I come back, I will arm myself, and will likewise give (armour) to the swineherd (i.e. Eumaeus) and the cowherd (i.e. Philoetius); for it is better to be clothed in armour."
Then, Odysseus, that man of many wiles, answered him and said: "Run and get (them), while I still have arrows to defend me, lest they thrust me from the door, alone as I am."
So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his father, and made his way to the chamber where lay the glorious armour. From there he took four shields and eight spears, and four bronze helmets with plumes of horse-hair, and he bore them on his way and came to his father very swiftly, and, first of all, he put the bronze about his body; and thus likewise the two servants put on the beautiful armour, and they took their stand on either side of bold Odysseus, full of various wiles.
But he, as long as there were arrows to defend him, so he would ever aim at the wooers and smite (them) one by one in his house; and they fell in heaps. But, when the arrows failed the prince as he shot (them), he leant the bow against the door-post of the well-built hall to stand against the gleaming wall-faces, and he himself placed a four-layered shield about his shoulders, and put a well-made helmet with horse-hair plumes on his stout head, and the plume nodded dreadfully above (him); and he took two mighty spears, arrayed with bronze.
Ll. 126-169. Melanthius raids the storeroom.
Now there was a certain raised doorway in the well-built wall, and along the topmost threshold of the well-built hall there was a way into the passage, and well-fitting planks enclosed (it). This (gate) Odysseus bade the goodly swineherd watch, taking his stand close by; for there was only a single (means of) access to it. Then, Agelaus spoke to the (suitors), proclaiming these words to all (of them): "Friends, will not someone go up to that raised entrance and address the people, so that the alarm can be raised straightaway? Then, this fellow would soon have fired his last (bolt)."
Then, Melanthius, the herder of goats, answered him: "It may not be possible, Agelaus, nurtured of Zeus; for the fair door of the court is terribly near, and the mouth of the passage (is) tight; one man, if he were valiant, could bar the way for everyone. But come, let me bring you armour from the storeroom to put on; for I think it is within (it), and nowhere else, that Odysseus and his brilliant son have laid their war-gear."
So saying, Melanthius, the herder of goats, went up to Odysseus' storeroom by the narrow passages of the hall. From there he took twelve shields and as many spears, and as many helmets (made) of bronze with plumes of horse-hair; and he went on his way and very quickly brought (them) and gave (them) to the suitors. Then were the knees of Odysseus loosened and his heart (began to melt), when he saw (them) donning armour and brandishing long spears in their hands; and his task seemed to him (to be) great. But quickly did he speak these winged words to Telemachus: "Telemachus, assuredly one of the women in these halls is stirring up an evil battle for us, or (perhaps it is) Melanthius."
Then, wise Telemachus spoke to him in reply: "I myself am to blame for this - no one else (is) responsible - for I left the close-fitting door of the storeroom open; and their watcher was better (than I). But go (now), goodly Eumaeus, and close the door of the storeroom, and see whether it is one of the women who does this, or Melanthius, the son of Dolius, whom indeed I think (it is)."
Thus they said these (things) to one another, but Melanthius, the herder of goats, went once more to the storeroom to bring the beautiful armour. But the goodly swineherd saw (him), and spoke at once to Odysseus who was close at hand: "Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, ever-resourceful Odysseus, there again is that pestilent fellow, whom we ourselves suspect, going to the storeroom; but tell me truly whether I should slay him, if I am the better (man), or shall I bring him here to you, so that he may make recompense for the many crimes which he has committed in your house."
Ll. 170-209. Melanthius is captured.
Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, answered him and said: "Telemachus and I will surely keep the haughty wooers within the hall, even if there are very pressing. But do you two (i.e. Eumaeus and Philoetius) bend his (i.e. Melanthius') feet and arms from above, and cast him into the storeroom, and tie boards behind (his back), and do you fasten a twisted cord around his (body) and hoist (him) up the tall pillar and bring (him) close to the roof-beams, so that he may stay alive for a long time and suffer grievous torments."
So he spoke, and they readily heard him and obeyed, and they went their way to the storeroom, unnoticed by the one who was within (it). Now indeed he was seeking armour in the innermost part of the storeroom, and the two (of them) lay in wait and stood on either side of the door-posts. When Melanthius, the herder of goats, was about to go over the threshold, bearing a fine helmet in one hand, and, in the other, a broad old shield, besprinkled with rust, belonging to the heroic Laertes, who in his youth used to carry (it) around; but now it had been lying (there) for some time, and the seams of its straps were loosened; then, the two of them rushed at (him) and seized (him) and dragged him inside by the hair, and they cast him down on the floor, troubled in his heart, and they bound his feet and hands together with a grievous knot, binding them firmly behind (him), as the son of Laertes, the much-enduring godlike Odysseus, had bade (them); and they fastened a twisted cord around his (body), and they hoisted (him) up the tall pillar and brought (him) close to the roof-beams. Then, swineherd Eumaeus, did you mock him and say: "Now indeed, Melanthius, shall you keep watch for the whole night, lying on a soft bed, as befits you; nor shall you fail to notice the gold-enthroned child of the morning (i.e. Dawn) when she comes forth from the streams of Ocean, at the hour when you bring the she-goats for the wooers to prepare for a feast in the hall."
So was he left there, stretched out in that dire bond; but the two (of them) put on their armour and closed the shining door, and they came to wise Odysseus, (he who was) full of various wiles. There the four (of them) (i.e. Odysseus, Telemachus, Eumaeus and Philoetius), stood on the threshold, breathing fury, and those within the hall were many and stout. Then, Athene, the daughter of Zeus, came near to them, looking like Mentor both in form and voice. And Odysseus was glad when he saw her, and spoke these words: "Mentor, ward off ruin, and remember your dear companion, who used to do good (things) for you; and you are of the same age as me."
Ll. 210-254. Athene intervenes.
So he spoke, thinking that it was Athene, the rouser (of hosts). But, on the other side, the wooers called out loudly in the hall; in the first place, Agelaus, the son of Damastor, rebuked her, (saying): "Do not let Odysseus prevail upon (you) with his words to fight the suitors, and bring aid to himself. For so I think that our intention will be brought to pass; now, when we have killed these (men), both father and son, then you too will be slain with them, (by) such (deeds) as you are minded to do in these halls; and with your own head you will pay the price. But, when we have stripped you of your might with a sword, we shall intermingle all the possessions which you have at home and outside with those of Odysseus; nor shall we allow your sons to dwell in these halls, nor your daughters and your trusty wife to traverse the city of Ithaca."
So he (i.e. Agelaus) spoke, and Athene became more angry in her heart, and rebuked Odysseus with these angry words: "Odysseus, no longer (do) you (have) that steadfast strength, nor any of that valour, such as (you) always (had) when you fought unceasingly with the Trojans for nine years concerning the high-born Helen with the white arms, and you slew many men in dire conflict, and, by your counsel, was the city of Priam with its wide streets taken. So how (is it) now, when you have come to your house and possessions, that you (have to) beg to show valiance against the wooers? But come here now, my friend, and stand by my side and see my deeds, until you learn what kind (of man is) Mentor, son of Alcimus, to repay kindness in the midst of enemy warriors."
So she (i.e. Athene in the guise of Mentor) spoke, but she did not give him the strength to conquer the other side entirely, but she still put the strength and valour of Odysseus and his splendid son to the test. And she herself flew up to the roof-beams of the smoky hall, and (there) she sat, just like a swallow to look at.
Now, Agelaus, the son of Damastor, and Eurynomus, and Amphimedon, and Demoptolemus, and Peisander, the son of Polyctor, and the thoughtful Polybus urged on the wooers; for in valour they were by far the best of the suitors who still lived and were fighting for their lives; but Agelaus spoke among them, and declared these words to (them) all: "My friends, now will this man restrain his invincible hands; now has Mentor gone from him, having uttered empty boasts, and they are left alone at the outer doors. Therefore, do not hurl your long spears all together, but come, let the six (of us) throw (them) first, in the hope that Zeus will grant that Odysseus be struck, and that we win glory. And of the rest, they are of no concern to us, once this (man) shall have fallen."
Ll. 255-291. The fighting continues.
So he (i.e. Agelaus) spoke, and they all eagerly hurled their spears as he had bade (them); but Athene made them all miss: one of them struck the door-post of the well-built hall, and another the close-fitting door; and another's ashen spear landed on the door (which was) loaded with bronze. But, when they had avoided the wooers' spears, the long-suffering godlike Odysseus began to speak to them: "My friends, now I shall give the word that we too shall cast our spears into the throng of the wooers, who are minded to slay us in addition to their former wrongs."
So he (i.e. Odysseus) spoke, and they all cast their spears with a straight aim; Odysseus smote Demoptolemus, Telemachus Euryades, the swineherd (i.e. Eumaeus) Elatus, and the cattle herdsman (i.e. Philoetius) Peisander. Then, together they all bit the immense floor with their teeth, and the suitors withdrew to the far corner of the hall, and they (i.e. Odysseus and his companions) leapt up and retrieved their spears from the corpses.
Then again did the wooers throw their sharp spears with eagerness; but many (as they were) Athene put them off course. One of them struck the door-post of the well-built hall, and another the close-fitting door; and another's ashen spear sank into the door (which was) loaded with bronze. But Amphimedon hit Telemachus with a grazing blow on the wrist of his hand, and the bronze ripped the surface of his skin. And Ctesippus with his long spear grazed Eumaeus on the shoulder above his shield; but it flew over (him) and sank on the floor. And then again, the wise and crafty-minded Odysseus and his companions hurled their sharp spears into the throng of the suitors. Then again, Odysseus, the sacker of cities, struck Eurydamas, and Telemachus Amphimedon, and the swineherd (i.e. Eumaeus) Polybus, and thereafter the herdsman of the cattle (i.e. Philoetius) smote Ctesippus on the breast, and spoke to (him) in exultation: "O (you) son of Polytherses, (you who is) fond of jeering, never more at all will you speak big, as you give way to folly, but entrust your words to the gods, since they are far mightier than (us). (This is) your gift in return for the foot (of an ox) which you once gave to godlike Odysseus, when he went begging through the house."
Ll. 292-329. Odysseus rejects Leodes' plea for mercy.
So he (i.e. Philoetius) spoke, but the Odysseus wounded the son of Damastus (i.e. Agelaus) at close quarters with his long spear. And Telemachus wounded Leiocritus, the son of Euenor, in the middle of the groin with his spear, and drove the bronze (point) right through; and he fell face downward, and struck the ground with the whole of his forehead. Then, Athene held up her deadly aegis on high from the roof; and their minds were full of panic. And they fled through the hall like a herd of cattle; these the dating gadfly arouse and drive in confusion during the season of spring, when the days are long. And just as the vultures with their crooked talons and horned beaks come forth from the mountains and swoop down upon the (smaller) birds - and those on the plain shrink from the clouds and are scattered in flight, and they pounce upon them and slay (them), and they have no means of defence or way of escape; and men enjoy the chase - even so did these (others) fall upon the wooers and smite them from all sides through the hall; and hideous groaning arose from them as their heads were smashed, and the whole floor ran with blood.
But Leodes rushed forward and clasped the knees of Odysseus, and, by way of entreaty, he spoke these winged words to him: "By your knees I beseech you, Odysseus; and do you show me respect as a suppliant and have pity on me; for I declare that I never said or did anything wicked to any of the women in this hall; but I sought to check the other suitors whenever they did such (deeds). But they did not hearken unto me and withhold their hands from doing evil; and, therefore, by their wanton (deeds) they have incurred their shameful doom. But I, the sacrificing priest among them, that has done no wrong, shall be laid low, as there is no gratitude thereafter for good deeds done."
Then, with an angry scowl, Odysseus, (the man) of many wiles, gave him an answer: "If you declare yourself to be the priest among these (men), I think you are likely often to have prayed in these halls that the fulfilment of my joyous return from afar might be removed, and that my dear wife would follow you and bear (you) children; therefore you shall not escape a grievous death."
So saying, he seized in his stout hand a sword that lay (nearby), which Agelaus had let fall to the ground (when he was) slain; with this he smote him (i.e. Leodes) full upon the neck. And, even (while he was still) speaking, his head was mingled with the dust."
Ll. 330-377. At the instigation of Telemachus, the lives of Phemius and Medon are spared.
The minstrel son of Terpis was still seeking to avoid black fate, Phemius (that is), who sang perforce among the suitors. And he stood with his clear-toned lyre in his hands close to the postern door; and he was in two minds as to whether he should slip out of the hall and sit down by the well-constructed altar of the mighty Zeus, the household (god), on which Laertes and Odysseus had burned many thigh-bones of oxen, or rush forward and clasp the knees of Odysseus in prayer. And so, as he pondered, it seemed (to him) to be the better (course), to clasp the knees of Odysseus, son of Laertes. So he laid the hollow lyre on the ground between the mixing-bowl and the silver-studded chair, and he himself rushed forward and clasped the knees of Odysseus, and, by way of entreaty, he addressed these winged words to him:
"By your knees I entreat you, Odysseus; do you show me respect (as a suppliant) and have pity on me; on yourself will sorrow come hereafter, if you should slay the bard who sings to gods and men. Self-taught am I, and the god has implanted in my mind all manner of ways of song; and I am fit to sing to you, as (if in the presence) of a god; so, do not be eager to cut my throat! And your dear son Telemachus will also bear witness to this, that I was not at all willing to frequent your house, nor did I desire to sing for the suitors after their feasts, but, being much more numerous and stronger (than I), they led (me there) perforce."
So he (i.e. Phemius) spoke, and Telemachus, strong in his righteousness, quickly addressed his father, who was close at hand: "Hold back (your hand), do not wound this guiltless (man) in any way with a sword; and let us also save the herald Medon, who was always concerned for me in our house when I was a child, unless he has already been killed by Philoetius or the swineherd, or he met you as you were raging through the house."
So he spoke, and Medon, knowing how to be discreet, heard him; for he lay crouching down beneath a chair, and he was clad in the skin of an ox newly flayed, and was seeking to avoid black fate. At once, he rose from the chair and quickly stripped off the ox-hide, and he then rushed forward and clasped Telemachus by the knees, and, by way of entreaty, he addressed these winged words to him: "Friend, I am here, and do you tell your father to stay (his hand), lest in the greatness of his strength he should harm me with his sharp sword, in his wrath against the suitor-men, who have wasted his property in the halls, and, in their folly, have not honoured you in any way."
But Odysseus, (the man) of many wiles, smiled and said to him (i.e. Medon): "Take courage, for he has delivered you and saved (you), so that you may know in your heart, and tell (it) also to another, how much better a good deed (is) than a bad (one). But go forth from the halls and sit down in the courtyard far away from the slaughter, you and the bard of widespread fame (i.e. Phemius), until I have done in my house whatever I needs must (do)."
Ll. 378-429. Eurycleia denounces the disloyal women-servants.
So he spoke; and the two of them (i.e. Phemius and Medon) went their way out of the hall. And the pair of them sat down by the great altar of Zeus, peering around in all directions and ever expecting death.
And Odysseus looked cautiously around his house, (to see) if any of the men (were) still alive and hiding to avoid black death. But he saw that pretty much all of them had fallen in heaps in their blood and the dust, like fishes that fishermen have dragged out of the grey sea in a close-meshed fishing-net; and they all lay heaped up on the beach, longing for salt water; but the radiant sun did away with their lives; so then were the suitors piled up upon one another.
And then did the resourceful Odysseus address Telemachus: "Come on then, Telemachus, go and call the nurse Eurycleia to me, so that I can tell (her) the word that is in my mind."
So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father, and, shaking open the door, he spoke to the nurse Eurycleia: "Come here, (you) aged old woman, who is the overseer of the servant-women in our hall; come on! My father calls you, so that he can tell you something."
So he uttered these words, but her reply was wingless (i.e. she spoke no words), but she unlocked the doors of the well-inhabited hall, and went on her way; and Telemachus led the way before (her). There she found Odysseus amid the bodies of the slain, bespattered with blood and gore, like a lion that comes from feeding on an ox that dwells in the fields. And all his breast and cheeks are drenched with blood on both sides, and he is gruesome to look at in the face; in that way was Odysseus stained all over from his feet and his hands. But, when she saw the bodies and the unspeakable (amount of) blood, she wanted to cry out with joy, since she saw (what) a great deed (had been done); but Odysseus held (her) back and detained (her), eager though (she was), and he spoke and addressed these winged words to her: "Rejoice in your heart, old lady, but check yourself and do not cry out with joy; an unholy (thing it is) to exult at (the sight of) men who have been slain. But these men, the fate of the gods and their wanton deeds did quell; for they honoured not one of the men upon the earth, neither the bad nor the good, (but) whoever came among them; and so, by their shameful folly, they brought death upon (themselves). But come (now), do you pick out for me the women in the halls, who dishonour me, and (those) who are guiltless."
Then, the dear nurse Eurycleia answered him: "So then, my child, will I tell you the truth. You have fifty servant-women in the halls, whom we have taught to do their work, and to comb the wool and endure the work of slaves; of these, twelve in all have gone the way of shamelessness, and they respect neither me nor Penelope herself. And Telemachus has newly grown up, and his mother would not allow him to rule over the women-servants. But come, I shall go up to the bright upper chamber, and speak to your wife, on whom some god has sent sleep."
Ll. 430-464. Odysseus orders the execution of the disloyal servant-women.
Then, the subtle Odysseus said to her (i.e. Eurycleia) in reply: "Do not wake her yet; but tell the women who have previously behaved disgracefully to come here."
So he spoke, and the old lady went right through the hall to inform the women and (to tell them) to come quickly. Furthermore, he called Telemachus, and the cowherd (i.e. Philoetius) and the swineherd (i.e. Eumaeus) to his (side). and spoke these winged words to (them): "Now start to carry out the dead bodies, and order those women (to help you); then, clean those fine chairs and tables with water and porous sponges. Yet, when the whole of the house has been set in order, take the serving-women out of the hall between the round-house and the excellent wall of the courtyard, and strike (them) with your long-pointed swords, until you have taken the lives of all (of them), and they will have quite forgotten the love-making which they had with the suitors, and that they lay in secret (with them)."
So he spoke; and the women (i.e. the twelve malefactors) all came in together, weeping terribly, with copious tears pouring down (their cheeks). Firstly, they removed the bodies of the dead, and they laid them under the portico of the well-fenced courtyard, propping them up, one against another. And Odysseus himself took charge (of them) and urged (them) on; and they carried the bodies unwillingly. So then they cleansed the very beautiful chairs and the tables with water and porous sponges. But Telemachus, and the cowherd and the swineherd scraped the floor of the well-built house with shovels; and the servant-women kept on carrying out (the scrapings), and they threw (them) outside. But, when they had set the whole of the hall in order, they led the servant-women out from the well-built hall between the round-house and the excellent wall of the courtyard, and shut them up in a confined space, from which it was not possible to escape. Then, the thoughtful Telemachus was the first to speak to them: "(Let it be) by no clean death that I take the lives of these (women), who have heaped insults on my head and on (that of) my mother, and (who) used to sleep with the suitors."
Ll. 465-501. Telemachus executes the twelve serving-women by hanging.
So he (i.e. Telemachus) spoke, and he tied the cable of a dark-prowed ship to a great pillar, and flung (it) around the round-house, stretching (it) upwards, so that no one might reach the ground with her feet. And, as when long-winged thrushes or doves fall into a snare that has been set in a thicket, as they seek to reach their stall, and hateful (is) the bed (that) welcomes (them), so they hold their heads in a row, and there were nooses around the necks of all (of them), so that they might die most piteously. And they writhed with their feet for a while, but not for long.
Then, they led Melanthius through the doorway and the courtyard; and they cut off his nose and ears with the pitiless bronze, and they ripped out his genitals to be eaten raw by the dogs, and they lopped off his hands and feet in their furious wrath.
Then, they washed their hands and feet and went in the house to Odysseus, and their work was done; but he spoke to his dear nurse Eurycleia; "Bring brimstone (i.e. sulphur), old lady, (as) a remedy for pollution, and bring me fire, so that I may fumigate the hall; and do you tell Penelope to come here with her serving-women, and to order all the women in the house to come."
Then, the dear nurse Eurycleia addressed him again: "Verily, my child, these (things) you have spoken aright, But come, let me bring you a cloak and a tunic (as) raiment, and do not stand in this way in the halls with your broad shoulders wrapped in rags; for it would be a (cause for) indignation."
And Odysseus, (the man) of many wiles, spoke to her in reply: "First of all, let a fire be made for me in the hall."
So he spoke, and the dear nurse Eurycleia did not disobey, and she brought (him) fire and brimstone; and Odysseus thoroughly fumigated the hall, and the house and the courtyard. Then, the old lady went back through the fine house of Odysseus to bear tidings to the women and bid (them) come; and they came out from the hall with torches in their hands. And they thronged around Odysseus and embraced (him), and they clasped and kissed his head, and shoulders and hands in loving welcome; and a sweet longing seized hold of him to weep and wail, for in his heart he knew (them) all.
