HOMER: "THE ODYSSEY": BOOK XXIV: RESTLESS SPIRITS.
Introduction:
The events which occur in this the final book of Homer's "Odyssey" occur in the 40th day of the actions pertinent to this work. At the beginning of the book, Hermes conducts the souls of the dead suitors (or wooers) to Hades, where the spirit of Agamemnon is conversing with the spirit of Achilles concerning the triumph of Odysseus. Agamemnon hears about the slaying of the suitors from the ghost of one of them, Amphimedon. Agamemnon then praises Odysseus' wife Penelope, contrasting her fidelity with the faithlessness of his own wife, Clytemnestra. Meanwhile in Ithaca, Odysseus is reunited with his father Laertes. Firstly, he tells him a false story about his own identity, but then he reveals himself and is joyfully welcomed by his father. When the Ithacans hear of the killing of the suitors, their relatives gather to take revenge. After a brief engagement, in which Laertes kills the relatives' leader, Eupeithes, Zeus and his daughter Athene intervene and peace is restored. The poem ends with the gods led by Zeus, in complete control, and Athene as his eager agent.
Sabidius completed his translation of Homer's "Iliad" on 7th July 2025; he now completes his translation of the "Odyssey" as well. The dates of publication on this blog of Sabidius' translations of all its 24 books are set out in the appendix to this text.
Ll. 1-34. The spirits of the slain wooers meet the spirits of past heroes in the Underworld.
Now, Cyllenian Hermes (i.e. Cyllene was a mountain in Northern Arcadia, and it was the site of Hermes' birth and sacred to the god) called forth the spirits of the suitor-men; and he held in his hands a fair golden wand, with which he casts a spell on the eyes of whatever men he wishes, and he even awakens them from sleep; and with it he aroused and led (the spirits), and they followed him squeaking. And, as when bats flit about squeaking in the innermost part of a wondrous cave, when one of them has fallen off the rock from the chain, in which they cling to one another, so they went gibbering after (him); and so the gracious Hermes led them down the dank passageways. And they went past the streams of Ocean and the Leucadian Rock, and past the Gates of the Sun and the Land of Dreams; and they came quickly down to the field of asphodel, and there dwell the spirits, the phantoms of (men) outworn. And (there) they found the spirit of Achilles, son of Peleus, and of Patroclus (i.e. Achilles' greatest friend), and of the peerless Antilochus (i.e. the eldest son of Nestor and Achilles' favourite comrade after the death of Patroclus), and of Ajax (i.e. the son of Telamon), who in shape and form was the best of all the Danaans after the peerless son of Peleus.
So they were flocking around him; and near to (them) came the spirit of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, in a sorrowful state; and around him others were gathered, those who were slain with him in the house of Aegisthus, and (there) met their fate. The spirit of the son of Peleus (i.e. Achilles) spoke to him (i.e. Agamemnon) first: "Son of Atreus, we thought that you were dear all your days to Zeus, who delights in thunder, above (all other) heroic men, because you were lord of many mighty (men) in the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans suffered woes. But, in truth, deadly fate would come upon you all too early, (that fate) which not one of us who is born avoids. Would that you, who had the use of that honour of which you were the master, had met your death and doom in the land of the Trojans; then would all the Achaeans have made you a tomb, and for your son too you would have won great glory in the future; but now it were so decreed that you should be seized by a most pitiable death."
Ll. 35-84. There is overwhelming grief at the death of Achilles.
Then did the spirit of the son of Atreus answer him: "Blessed son of Peleus, Achilles, like unto the gods, (you) who were slain in (the land of) Troy far from Argos; and around you others were slain, the best of the Trojans and the sons of the Achaeans, fighting for your (body); and you did lie in a whirl of dust, great in your mightiness, forgetful of the art of horsemanship; nor should we ever have ceased fighting, if Zeus had not stopped (us) with a storm. But, when we had borne you from the battle to the ships, we laid (you) on a bier, and cleansed your fair flesh with warm water and an unguent; and many hot tears did the Danaans shed around you, and they tore their hair. And your mother (i.e. Thetis) came out of the sea with her immortal sea(-nymphs), when she heard the news (of your death); and a wondrous cry arose on the deep, and at (this) trembling took hold of all the Achaeans; then would they have sprung up and rushed aboard their hollow ships' if a man, very knowledgeable in his old age, had not held (them) back, Nestor (that is), whose advice had previously seemed best; full of good intentions, he addressed them and said: 'Hold on, (you) Argives, do not flee, (you) youths of the Achaeans; his mother comes from the sea, and she comes with her immortal sea(-nymphs) to look upon the face of her dead son.'
"So he (i.e. Nestor) spoke, and the great-hearted Achaeans ceased their flight; then around you (i.e. Achilles) stood the daughters of the old man of the sea (i.e. the Nereids), piteously wailing, and they put immortal raiment around (you). And the Muses, nine in all, responding in a sweet voice, sang a dirge; there you could not have seen any tearless Argive; for the sweet-voiced Muse gently stirred them up. So, for seventeen (days) did we, immortal gods and mortal men, bewail you, day and night alike; and on the eighteenth (day) we gave (you) to the fire, and we slew many well-fatted sheep and crooked-horned cattle around you. And you were burned in the raiment of the gods and with much ointment and sweet honey; and many Achaean warriors moved speedily around the fire in their armour, when you were burning, both footmen and charioteers, and a great din arose. But, when the flame of Hephaestus had consumed you, in the morning we gathered up your white bones, Achilles, in unmixed wine and unguents; and your mother gave (us) a large golden jar with two handles; and she said it was a gift of Dionysius, and the handiwork of the renowned Hephaestus. In this lie your white bones, glorious Achilles, and mingled (with them the bones) of the dead Patroclus, son of Menoetius, and separately (those) of Antilochus, whom you did honour far above the others of your comrades after the dead Patroclus. And over them we then heaped up a great and splendid mound, (we), the sacred host of Argive spearmen, on a headland projecting out over the broad Hellespont, so that it may be conspicuous to men from the sea, (both) to those who are here now, (and to those) who shall live hereafter.
Ll. 85-137. The spirit of Amphimedon tells how Penelope tricked the suitors.
"But your mother asked the gods for very beautiful prizes, and she set them down in the midst of the arena of the Achaeans who excelled in valour. Now you have taken part in the funeral rites of many men (who were) warriors, whenever, on the death of a king, young men did gird up their loins and get ready for the contests; but, especially if you had seen that (sight), you would have marvelled in your heart at those very beautiful prizes that the goddess, the silver-footed Thetis, set down in your (honour); for you were very dear to the gods. For not even in death did you lose your name, but you shall always have a good reputation among men, Achilles. But what pleasure is there for me in this, since (it was) I (who) brought the war to a close? For on my return Zeus devised a woeful death for me at the hands of Aegisthus and my accursed wife (i.e. Clytemnestra)."
So they spoke such (words) to one another, but the messenger, the guide Argeïphontes (i.e. the Slayer of Argus), came to them, leading down the spirits of the wooers slain by Odysseus, and then the two of them (i.e. the spirits of Achilles and Agamemnon), seized with wonder, went straight towards (them) when they saw (them). And the spirit of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, recognised the dear son of Melaneus, the renowned Amphimedon; for he had been his host, dwelling in his home in Ithaca. The spirit of the son of Atreus spoke to him first: "Amphimedon, what has happened (to you), that you have come down to the land of darkness, all (of you) chosen (men) and of similar age? One would have made no other choice, if one had had to pick out the best men across the city. Did Poseidon smite you on board your ships by arousing harsh winds and far-stretching waves? Or did strange men do you harm on the land while you were intercepting their cattle and fair flocks of sheep, or while they were fighting for their city and their women? Tell me what I ask; for I declare that I have been your guest. Or do you not remember when I came there to your house with godlike Menelaus to urge Odysseus to go with us to Ilium in the well-benched ships? We took the whole of a month to go across the wide sea, so hard was it to prevail upon Odysseus, the sacker of cities."
And then, the spirit of Amphimedon answered him: "Most glorious son of Atreus, Agamemnon, king of men, I remember all these (things), just as you say (them, O you who are) cherished by Zeus; and I will you precisely absolutely everything about how the evil ending of our death was brought about. We wooed the wife of Odysseus, who had been gone for a long while; she (i.e. Penelope) neither refused the hateful marriage, nor did she reach a decision (about it), while planning death and a black fate for us, but she devised this other trick in her mind: she set up a great web in her hall, refined and immense in size (it was), and she began to weave; and straightway she spoke among us: '(You) young men (who are) my suitors, since godlike Odysseus is dead, eager for my wedding though you are, be patient, until I complete my web, lest my thread should be vainly destroyed; a shroud for lord Laertes (it is), against the time when the deadly fate of woeful death shall strike him down, lest any one of the Achaean women across the land shall be angry with me, if (he) who had won such great possessions should lie without a garment.'
Ll. 138-190. The spirit of Amphimedon goes on to tell how the suitors were killed by Odysseus and Telemachus.
"So she (i.e. Penelope) spoke, and then our manly hearts persuaded us. Then by day she would weave at her great web, and at night she would unravel (it), when she had placed torches beside (her). So for three years she escaped notice and persuaded the Achaeans by this trick, but, when the fourth year came round and the seasons came upon us, and the months waned and many days were completely finished, then one of her women, who plainly knew of it, told (us), and we discovered her unravelling her splendid work. So she finished it unwillingly, perforce. When she had woven the great web, and, after washing (it), she had shown us the shroud gleaming like the sun or the moon, then some evil demon brought Odysseus from somewhere to the border of the land where the swineherd (i.e. Eumaeus) dwelt in his hut. There (too) came the dear son of divine Odysseus, returning from sandy Pylos with his black ship. And these two, when thy had contrived an evil death for the wooers, came to the famous city, Odysseus certainly later, but Telemachus led the way before (him). And the swineherd brought him (i.e. Odysseus), his body clad in mean raiment, in the likeness of a sad and elderly beggar, supported by a staff; and wretched (was) the raiment (that) he wore around his body; and not one of us could have known it was he, when he appeared so suddenly, (no) not even those (who) were older (men), but we assailed (him) with wicked words and with missiles. But for a while he with his patient heart endured being pelted and taunted in his own halls; but then, when the will of Zeus, who bears the aegis, roused him, with (the help of) Telemachus he took the very fine armour, and put it in his store-room and shut the bolts, but then, in his great cunning, he bade his wife set his bow and grey iron before the wooers as a contest for us (who were) doomed to a sad end and the beginning of death. But not one of us was able to stretch the string of that mighty bow, and we were greatly lacking in strength. But, when the great bow came to the hands of Odysseus, then we all shouted out in loud words not to give (him) the bow, not even if he demanded (it) very strongly; but Telemachus alone urged him on, and told (him to take it). Then, the long-suffering godlike Odysseus took the bow in his hand, and strung (it) with ease, and shot (an arrow) through the iron (rings), and then he went and stood on the threshold, and poured forth his swift arrows, while glaring terribly around (him), and he struck lord Antinous. And then he let fly his groan-causing shafts upon the others, aiming straight before (him); and they fell in heaps. Then was it known that one of the gods was their helper; for rushing on straightway through the halls in their fury, they slew (men) left and right, and from them there arose a hideous groaning, as heads were smitten and the whole of the floor swam with blood. Thus we perished, Agamemnon, and even now out bodies lie uncared for in the halls of Odysseus; for our friends in each home know nothing as yet, those (friends) who might wash the black gore from our wounds, but wail while laying out (our bodies); for that is the dead men's gift of honour."
Ll. 191-231. Odysseus finds his father Laertes alone in his vineyard.
Then, the spirit of the son of Atreus replied to this: "Blessed son of Laertes, ever-ready Odysseus, you certainly acquired a wife of great virtue. Of such good understanding was peerless Penelope, daughter of Icarius; so well did she keep the memory of Odysseus, her lawfully wedded husband; therefore, the fame of her virtue shall never perish, but the immortals shall make a lovely song among men on earth about shrewd Penelope; not on this basis did the daughter of Tyndareus (i.e. Clytemnestra) devise evil deeds, and slay her lawfully wedded husband (i.e. Agamemnon), and hateful shall the song (about her) be among men, and a bad reputation shall she bestow upon women of the female sex, even she who shall be upright (in character)."
So they spoke such (words) to one another, as they stood in the house of Hades beneath the depths of the earth.
But, when they went down from the city, then they quickly came to the fair and well-wrought farm of Laertes, which Laertes himself had once acquired, since he had toiled very greatly (in doing so) (i.e. he had acquired it as his own private property by reclaiming it from uncultivated land). Here was his dwelling, and outhouses ran around it on all sides, in which the constrained slaves who worked for him were fed, and sat and slept. And in (it) there was an old Sicilian woman, who took care of the old man in a kindly manner (there) at the farm far from the city. Then, Odysseus spoke these words to the servants and to his son: "Now do you go into the well-built house, and straightway slaughter for our dinner (those) who (are) the very best of the pigs; but I shall put my father to the test, (to see) whether he shall recognise me and know me by sight, or whether he shall fail to recognise (me), as I have been way for such a long time."
So saying, he gave his battle-gear to the slaves. Then, they went swiftly homeward, but Odysseus drew nearer to the fruitful vineyard in his quest. Now, he did not find Dolius as he went down into the great orchard, nor any of his slaves or his sons, but then it happened that they had gone to pick loose stones for the wall of the vineyard, and yet the old man led the way for them. But he found his father alone in the well-made vineyard, digging round a plant; and he was dressed in a dirty tunic, patched and shabby (it was), and around his shins he had tied stitched greaves, in order to avoid scratches, and (he wore) gloves on his hands on account of brambles; and he had a goatskin cap on the top of his head, so as to emphasise his grief.
Ll. 232-279. Odysseus spins his father a yarn.
And so, when the long-suffering godlike Odysseus saw him worn out with old age and with great grief in his heart, he stood beneath a tall pear-tree, and let the tear-drops fall. Then he debated in his mind and in his heart (whether) to kiss and throw his arms around his father, and tell (him) everything, how he had returned and had come to his native land, or whether he should question (him) first, and put (him) to the test with regard to everything. And, as he pondered, this seemed to be the better (course), to firstly put him to the test with words that would arouse (him). With this in mind, godlike Odysseus went straight towards him. In truth, he was holding down his head, digging round a plant; and his illustrious son came up to him, and spoke (as follows): "O old man, you show no lack of skill in tending a garden, but your care is good, and (there is) nothing at all, neither plant, nor fig-tree, nor vine, nor olive-tree, nor pear-tree, nor garden plot across the plantation that lacks your care. But I will tell you something else, and do not establish wrath in your heart, there is no good care of yourself, but in your woeful old age you are squalid and unkempt, and you are meanly clad. Surely (it is) not on account of your sloth that your master does not take care of you, nor do you seem in any way like a slave (either) in shape or in stature; for you have the look of a royal man. And you are like one, who, when he has bathed and eaten, should sleep softly; for that is the way of old men. But come, tell me this, and declare it honestly, of whom are you the slave of men? And whose orchard do you tend? And tell me this truly also, so that I may know (it) full well, whether this (is) indeed Ithaca (to which) I have come, as that man told me just now, when he met (me) on my way here, (but he was) not very obliging at all, since he did not have the heart to tell me each (thing), or to listen to my words when I questioned (him) about a friend of mine, whether he is still alive, or whether he is now dead and in the house of Hades. For I will tell you about (him), and do you take heed and listen to me: I once entertained in my dear native land a man who came to our house, and no other man ever came to my house as a dear guest from a foreign land; and he declared that he was from Ithaca by lineage, and he said that Laertes, son of Arcesius, was father to him. And I took him to the house, and entertained (him) well from the many (stores) that were within the house, and I gave him gifts of friendship such as were fitting. I gave him seven talents of well-wrought gold, and I gave him a mixing-bowl all of silver, embossed with flowers, and twelve cloaks as single garments, and as many rugs, and as many fair mantles, and as many tunics as these, and then apart from these, four comely women, skilled in goodly handicraft, whom he himself wished to choose."
Ll. 280-326. Odysseus gives up his story-telling, and reveals himself to Laertes.
Then, his father answered him, with tears trickling down: "Visitor, you have certainly come to the land that you are seeking, but wanton and reckless men (now) possess it; and those countless gifts you gave were granted in vain; for, if you had found him still alive in the land of Ithaca, then would he have sent you on your way with a good exchange of gifts, for that (is) the due of the man who initiates such kind hospitality. But come, tell me this, and recount (it) exactly, how many years have passed, since you entertained that unfortunate guest of yours, my son, an ill-fated (man), if ever there was (one)? Perhaps the fishes have devoured him far from his friends and his native land, in the deep maybe, or on the shore he has perhaps become the prey of beasts and birds; neither did his mother weep over him as she dressed him for burial, nor (did) his father, we who gave him birth; nor did his well-endowed wife, shrewd Penelope, bewail her husband on the bier, as was fitting when she closed his eyes; for that is the privilege of the dead. And tell me this truly also, so that I may know (it) full well. Who are you among men, and from where (do you come)? (And) where (is) your city and your parents? And where is the swift ship moored that brought you here with your godlike companions? Or did you come here as a passenger on board someone else's ship, and did they depart, when they had dropped (you) off?"
Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, spoke to him in reply: "Well then, I will truly tell you absolutely everything. I come from Alybas, where I dwell in a splendid house, (and I am) the son of king Apheidas, the son of Polypemon; now my own name is Eperitus (i.e. 'Picked' or 'Chosen'); but, as I wandered from Sicania, some god drove me here against my will; and my ship is moored over there on farmland away from the city. But, as for Odysseus, it is now the fifth year since he went from there, and departed from my country, hapless (man that he was); yet he had birds of good omen when he went forth, (birds) on the right (they were), and I was glad of them as I sent him on his way, and he went forth happily; and our hearts were hopeful that we should still meet in hospitality, and give (one another) glorious gifts."
So he (i.e. Odysseus) spoke, and a dark cloud of grief enwrapped him (i.e. Laertes), and he took the sooty dust in both of his hands, and strewed (it) over his grey head, groaning loudly. Then his (i.e. Odysseus') heart was stirred, and now a keen pang shot up through his nostrils as he beheld his dear father. And he sprang towards (him), and clasped (him) in his arms and kissed him, and said: "Let me tell you, I myself (am) that very (man), father, of whom you are asking, and I have come in the twentieth year to my native land. But do you abstain from grieving and tearful lamentation. For I will tell you (this): but great is the need to hasten all the same; I have slain the suitors in our halls, having taken vengeance on their grievous insolence and evil deeds."
Ll. 327-364. Laertes is persuaded that the visitor is his son Odysseus.
Then, Laertes answered him and said: "If you have really come here as my son Odysseus, now give me some very clear sign in order to persuade (me)."
Then, astute Odysseus spoke to him in reply: "Do you first perceive with your eyes this scar, which a boar dealt me with his white tusk on Parnassus, when I had gone (there); and it was you and my queenly mother (i.e. Anticleia) who sent me forth to my mother's dear father Autolycus, so that I might get the gifts which, when he came here, he promised and agreed (to give) me. But come, (what) if I told you also of the trees in the well-made garden, which you once gave me, and I, who was but a child, was following (you) across the garden and asking you about everything; and (it was) through these very (trees) that we came, and you named (them) and told (me) about each one. You gave me thirteen pear-trees and ten apple-trees and forty fig-trees, and you thus promised to give me fifty rows of vines, and each one of them was ready for the vintage; and there upon (them) there are all sorts of clusters - whenever the seasons of Zeus weighed (them) down from above."
So he (i.e. Odysseus) spoke, and his (i.e. Laertes') knees were loosened and his heart (melted), as he well knew the sure tokens that Odysseus had brought to his attention. and he flung his arms around his dear son; and the much-enduring godlike Odysseus caught hold of him as he was fainting. but, when he revived, and the spirit returned again to his breast, he spoke these words once more in reply: "Father Zeus, (you) gods are still there on high Olympus, if the suitors have indeed paid the price of their wanton insolence. But now I have a dreadful fear in my heart, lest all the men of Ithaca come quickly upon (us) here, and incite messages everywhere among the cities of the Cephallenians (i.e. all the subjects of Odysseus' realms)."
Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, said to him in reply: "Be of good cheer, and do not, let me tell you, let these things cause your heart regret. But let us go to the house that lies near the orchard; and to there I sent forward Telemachus and the herdsman (i.e. Philoetius) and the swineherd (i.e. Eumaeus), so that they might prepare our dinner as quickly as possible."
So speaking, the two of them went on their way to the lovely dwelling. And, when they came to the well-inhabited house, (there) they found Telemachus and the herdsman and the swineherd, carving meat in abundance and mixing the flaming wine.
Ll. 365-411. Odysseus is welcomed home by his servant Dolius and his sons.
Meanwhile, his Sicilian handmaid bathed the great-hearted Laertes in his house, and anointed (him) with oil, and then she cast a fine cloak around (him); but Athene drew near and increased the size of the limbs of the shepherd of the people, and made (him) taller than before and stouter to behold. Then, he came out of his bath-tub; and his beloved son marvelled at him, as he saw that he resembled the immortal gods in his appearance; and he spoke and addressed these winged words to him: "O father, one of the gods that are forever has certainly made you better to behold in appearance and stature."
Then, thoughtful Laertes spoke directly to him once more: "(O) father Zeus, and Athene, and Apollo, if only I was the man I was when I took Nericus, that well-built citadel on the shore of the mainland when I was lord of the Cephallenians, or I had been strong enough to stand by your side yesterday in our house with my armour on my shoulders, and had beaten back the suitor-men; so should I have loosened the knees of many of them in the halls, and you would have been glad in your heart."
So they said such (things) to each other. But then, when they had ceased from their labour and had prepared the meal, they sat down in order on the couches and high chairs; then, as they were about to lay their hands on the food, the old man Dolius came near, and with him the old man's sons, wearied from their work (in the fields), since their mother, the old Sicilian woman, had gone out and summoned (them), (she) who fed them and took care of the old man (i.e. Dolius) in a kindly manner, since old age had taken hold of him. And they, when they saw Odysseus, and realised in their minds (it was him), stood in the halls in amazement; but Odysseus accosted them with gentle words and said: "O old man, do sit down to your dinner and forget your amazement entirely; for we have stood in these halls for a long time, yearning to set our hands on the food, and always expecting you."
So he spoke, and Dolius ran straight towards (him) with both his hands outstretched, and he clasped the hand of Odysseus and kissed (him) on the wrist, and addressed these winged words to him, saying: "O my dear (master), since you have returned to us who have longed for you so sorely, but did not yet expect (to see you), and the gods themselves have brought you, good health and a good welcome to you, and may the gods grant you happiness. And tell me this in truth, so that I may know (it) full well, does wise Penelope already really know that you have returned here, or shall we arrange for a messenger?"
Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, spoke to him in reply: "O old man, she already knows; why do you need to be burdened with this?"
So he spoke, and the (other one) (i.e. Dolius) sat down again on his polished stool. And so in like manner the sons of Dolius (gathered) around Odysseus, and greeted him with words and tightly clasped his hands, and then they sat down in order beside their father Dolius.
Ll. 412-449. Eupeithes, the father of Antinous, exhorts the citizens of Ithaca to take their revenge on Odysseus.
So they toiled around their meal in the halls; but, in the meantime, the messenger Rumour went swiftly through the city everywhere, telling of the dreadful death and fate of the suitors. And the (people) heard of it at one and the same moment, and they came together one after another, with moaning and groaning, in front of the palace of Odysseus, and they each brought the corpses from the buildings and buried (them), and those from other cities they sent each to his own house, putting them on the swift ships for the seamen to bear; but they themselves went to the place of assembly sad at heart. Now, when they had assembled and met together, then Eupeithes stood up and spoke to them; for insufferable grief for his son lay heavy on his heart, Antinous (he was), whom godlike Odysseus had slain first; shedding tears for him, he spoke in the assembly and said to (them): "My friends, in truth this man has contrived a monstrous deed against the Achaeans; he led men forth on his ships, many and noble (they were), and he lost his hollow ships and utterly lost his men; and others has he slain on his return, (and these were) by far the best of the Cephallenians, but come (now), before he goes swiftly to Pylos, or to sacred Elis where the Epeians hold sway, let us go forth; or even in the days to come we shall always be downcast; for shameful it is, even for (men), who are yet to be, to hear of, if we do not take revenge on the slayers of our sons and brothers. For me it would not then be sweet in our hearts to live, but I would rather die at once and be among the dead. But let us go forth, lest they go across the sea before (us)."
So he spoke, shedding tears, and pity took hold of all the Achaeans. Then near to them came Medon and the divine minstrel from the halls of Odysseus, for sleep had let go of them, and they stood in the midst (of the assembly); and amazement seized hold of each man. Then, Medon, with his knowledge of wise (things), spoke to them: "Now listen to me, (you) men of Ithaca, for Odysseus did not contrive these deeds contrary to the will of the immortal gods; I myself saw an immortal god, who stood close to Odysseus, and seemed to be like Mentor in all respects. Then, he appeared as an immortal god in front of Odysseus, encouraging (him), and then did he rush through the hall, scaring the suitors; and they fell in droves."
Ll. 450-495. Civil war appears likely to break out in Ithaca, but Zeus seeks to arrange for peace.
So he (i.e. Medon) spoke, and pale fear took hold of all of them. Then, the old warrior Halitherses, son of Mastor, spoke to them; for he alone saw (what was) before and after; with good intentions towards them, he addressed the assembly and said to (them): "Listen now, men of Ithaca, to what I shall say; through your own cowardice, my friends, have these deeds been brought to pass; for you would not obey me, nor Mentor, shepherd of the people, to make your sons cease from their follies; they performed a monstrous deed in the baseness of their blind folly, devouring the property and dishonouring the wife of a valiant man; and they said that he would no longer return. Now then let it be thus. Do you obey me as I bid (you); let us not go, lest perhaps one shall find (something) bad, which one has brought upon oneself."
So he (i.e. Halitherses) spoke, but they sprang up, more than half (of them), with a loud shout; but quite a few of them remained where they were; for his speech was not pleasing to their minds, but they hearkened to Eupeithes; and quickly thereafter they rushed for their arms. But, when they had put gleaming bronze around their bodies, they gathered in throngs in front of the spacious city. And Eupeithes led them in his folly; for he thought he would avenge the slaying of his son, but he was not destined to come back again, but to meet his doom.
But Athene spoke to Zeus, son of Cronos, (saying): "O (you,) our father, son of Cronos, highest of (all) lords, tell me who is asking you, what (purpose) is your mind now hiding within you? Will you further bring about evil warfare and the dread din of battle, or will you establish friendship between the two sides?"
Then, Zeus the cloud-gatherer spoke to her in reply: "Why are you questioning me closely and inquiring about this? For did you not yourself devise this plan that Odysseus should indeed take vengeance on these (men) at his coming? Do as you will; but I will tell you what is fitting. Since godlike Odysseus has taken his vengeance on the wooers, let them swear trustworthy oaths that he will always be their king, and let us bring about a forgetting and forgiving of the slaughter of their sons and brothers; and may they love one another as before, and let wealth and peace be in abundance."
So saying, he (i.e. Zeus) roused Athene, who had been eager before (he spoke), and she went darting down from the heights of Olympus.
But, when they (i.e. the inhabitants of Laertes' farm) had satisfied their desire for delicious food, the much-enduring godlike Odysseus began speaking to them: "Let someone go forth and see whether they are now drawing near."
So he (i.e. Odysseus) spoke; and a son of Dolius went forth as he bade; and he went and stood upon the threshold and saw them all close by; and straightway he spoke these winged words to Odysseus: "They are already close at hand; but let us speedily arm ourselves."
Ll. 496-548. Zeus makes his daughter Athene bring about peace between the followers of Odysseus and his opponents.
So he (i.e. the son of Dolius) spoke, and they rose up and put on their armour, and there were four of them together with Odysseus (i.e. Odysseus, Telemachus, Philoetius the herdsman, and Eumaeus the swineherd), and (there were) the six sons of Dolius; and among (them), as you would expect, Laertes and Dolius donned their armour, grey-headed though they were, and warriors perforce. But, when they had put gleaming bronze around their bodies, they opened the doors and went out, and Odysseus led (them). Then, Athene, daughter of Zeus, drew near to them, in the likeness of Mentor, both in form and also in voice. And the much-enduring godlike Odysseus was glad to see her; and straightway he spoke to his dear son Telemachus: "Now Telemachus, having come yourself to the place where the best of fighting men are put to the test, you shall learn this, not to bring any disgrace upon the race of our fathers, who in times past have indeed excelled in strength and valour over all of the earth."
Then, thoughtful Telemachus spoke to him again in reply: "You shall see (me), if you will, dear father, in my present spirit, bringing no disgrace at all on your house, just as you phrase (it)."
So he spoke, and Laertes was delighted and spoke as follows: "What a day is this for me, dear gods! I rejoice for sure; my son and my grandson are holding a contest in valour."
Then, bright-eyed Athene came near him (i.e. Laertes) and said (i.e. while disguised as Mentor): "O son of Arcesius, by far the dearest of all my friends, make a prayer to the bright-eyed maiden (i.e. Athene) and to father Zeus, and straightway brandish your long-shafted spear very firmly, and hurl (it)."
So spoke Pallas Athene, and into (him) (i.e. Laertes) she breathed great might, and then he prayed to the daughter of mighty Zeus, and straightway raised aloft his long-shafted spear and flung (it), and it smote Eupeithes through his helmet with its bronze cheek-pieces. But this did not check the spear, and its bronze (point) went through (it), and he fell with a crash and his armour clattered about him. Then, Odysseus and his glorious son fell upon the foremost fighters, and smote them with swords and double-pointed spears. And now they would have slain (them) all, and caused (them) not to return, if Athene, daughter of Zeus, who bears the aegis, had not cried out with a loud voice, and checked all the host, (saying): "Refrain from this grievous warfare, (you) men of Ithaca, so that you may separate from one another as quickly as possible, and without shedding blood."
So spoke Athene, and pale fear seized them; and then, in their terror, their arms flew from their hands, and they all fell on the ground, as the voice of the goddess spoke, and they turned towards the city, longing to (save) their lives. Then, the long-suffering godlike Odysseus shouted terribly, and, drawing himself together, he swooped after (them) like an eagle soaring on high. And at that moment the son of Cronos discharged a flaming thunderbolt, and down it fell before the bright-eyed daughter of the mighty sire. Then, bright-eyed Athene spoke to Odysseus, (saying): "Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, ever-resourceful Odysseus, stay your hand, and make this strife of war between equals cease, lest perhaps far-seeing Zeus, the son of Cronos, may be angry with you."
So spoke Athene, and he obeyed (her) and was glad at heart. Then, Pallas Athene, the daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis, made a binding treaty between both (sides) for the time thereafter, (she) in the likeness of Mentor, both in form and also in voice.
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Appendix. The 24 books of Homer's "Odyssey" may be found on this blog in accordance with the following dates:
I) 20 November 2021; II) 14 December 2021; III) 14 January 2022; IV) 1 April 2022; V) 20 January 2020 (plus extracts 17 September 2010); VI) 24 June 2011; VI) 24 June 2011; VII) 9 July 2011; VIII) 14 October 2020; IX) 18 August 2011; X) 15 October 2020; XI) 25 February 2021; XII) 15 May 2021; XIII) 26 June 2022; XIV) 11 October 2022; XV) 28 March 2023; XVI) 8 July 2023; XVII) 13 October 2023; XVIII) 24 February 2024; XIX) 21 May 2024; XX) 10 July 2024; XXI) 29 November 2024; XXII) 22 February 2025; XXIII) 17 July 2025; and XXIV) 4 August 2025.
