HOMER: "ODYSSEY": BOOK II: THE DEBATE IN ITHACA

HOMER: "ODYSSEY": BOOK II: THE DEBATE IN ITHACA

Introduction:

At the assembly which Telemachus calls at the beginning of this book, he is critical of the behaviour of the suitors, one of whom, Antinous, then blames Telemachus' mother, Penelope, for deceiving the suitors, and urges him to send her to her father so another marriage can be arranged for her. After Telemachus rejects this advice, the seer Halitherses interprets the flight of two eagles as indicating that the suitors are putting themselves at great risk by their misbehaviour, as Odysseus will soon be returning home to take his revenge on them. After another suitor, Eurymachus, ridicules Halitherses' augury, Telemachus demands a ship to take him to take him to the mainland to seek for news of his father, and the assembly is dissolved. The goddess Athene, disguised as Mentor, then promises to support Telemachus in arranging a voyage to Pylos, and Telemachus returns to his house, where he rebukes Antinous, who has been taunting him. He then asks the housekeeper, and his former nurse, Eurycleia, to prepare provisions for his journey. Although Eurycleia seeks to dissuade Telemachus from going on this journey, she does then agree not to tell his mother about it until his absence becomes a matter of public knowledge. Athene then acquires a ship, and arranges to  recruit oarsmen to man it. The book ends with Telemachus, Athene and their crew heading for the Greek mainland.

Ll. 1-38. The Assembly convenes. 

As soon as the child of the morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, then he (i.e. Telemachus) arose from his bed and put on his clothing and slung his sharp sword around his shoulder, and bound his fair sandals beneath his gleaming feet, and he made his way from the bedroom with his face looking like a god's, and at once he gave orders to the clear-voiced heralds to summon the long-haired Achaeans to the assembly. And they made their summons and the (people) came together very quickly. Now, when they were assembled and had come together, he made his way to the place of assembly, and in his hand he held a bronze spear; nor (was he) alone, as two gleaming dogs followed after him. And upon him Athene shed a wondrous grace. And all the people marvelled at him as he came; then, he sat down in his father's seat, and the elders made way (for him).  

Then, among them noble Aegyptius was the first to speak, (a man) who was bent with age and knew countless (things). For the truth was that his son, the spearman Antiphus had gone in the hollow ships to Ilium, (the city) of fine colts, in the company of the godlike Odysseus; but the savage Cyclops slew him in his hollow cave, and made (of him) his last meal (i.e. the last one he made before he was blinded). Now, he had three other sons: one of them, Eurynomus, was consorting with the suitors, and the other two constantly kept up their father's lands. But, even so, he could not forget him (i.e. Antiphus), and mourned and grieved (for him). And, shedding tears for him, he addressed the assembly and spoke to (them as follows): "Listen to me now, men of Ithaca, (and to the words) that I shall say. Never has our assembly or council met, since the day when godlike Odysseus departed in the hollow ships. And now who has thus gathered (us) together? Upon whom has such a need come; (was it one) of the young men, or (one of) the older generation? Has he heard some tidings of the army returning, about which he might tell us plainly, since he must have learned (of it) first (himself)? Or (is this) some other public (matter, on which) he is to speak and address (us)? To me he seems to be a good man, and a blessed (one). Would that Zeus may accomplish (something) good, (something) that he desires in his heart!" 

So he spoke, and the dear son of Odysseus rejoiced at his speech, nor did he remain seated any longer, but was eager to speak; then, he stood in the middle of the assembly; and the herald Pisenor, full of wise counsel (as he was), placed the staff in his hands. 

Ll. 39-83. Telemachus states his case.

Then he spoke, appealing to the old man first: "O old man, this man who has called the host together (is) not far off, as you yourself shall soon learn; for on me especially has sorrow come. I have not heard any news of the army returning, about which I should plainly tell you, as soon as I should first learn (of it myself), nor am I bringing to your attention, or coming to talk to you about, any other public (matter) but my own concerns, (namely) the twin evils which have fallen upon my house: in the first place, I have lost my noble father, who was once king among you here, and he was as gentle as a father (to all of you). But now there has also come a much greater (evil, one) which will shortly destroy entirely my whole house, and will utterly ruin all my livelihood. (For) suitors are pestering my mother against her will, (and) the sons of men who (are) here are foremost (among them); they shrink from going to the house of her father Icarius (i.e. in Cephallenia), so that he may extract presents for the betrothal of his daughter, and give her to whomever he wishes, even to him who meets his favour; but now they are going in and out of our (house) every day, slaughtering our oxen, sheep and fat goats, (and) they feast together in large numbers and recklessly drink our sparkling wine; and our wealt0h is being exhausted. For (there is) no man available, such as Odysseus was, to ward off our household from ruin. Now we (are) not in any way such (as he was), so we can drive (it) away; and, indeed, if we do try, we shall then prove to be weaklings, and to have learned no prowess. But, in truth, I would defend myself, if I had but the power (to do so). For deeds, which are no longer endurable, have been wrought, (and) my house, (which is) no longer in a good condition, is being utterly destroyed. You yourselves should also feel resentment and a sense of shame with regard to those other men who are your neighbours, (that is those) who live roundabout, and you should fear the wrath of the gods, lest they turn upon you in some way through anger at these evil deeds. I pray (you), both by Olympian Zeus and by Themis, who dissolves and gathers the assemblies of men, forbear, my friends, and leave me alone to pine in my bitter grief, unless perhaps (you think that) my father, the noble Odysseus, did harm in some way to the well-greaved Achaeans out of ill-will, and that you should take your revenge on me for these (things, by) urging these men on to work evils (on me) in a malicious fashion. But, for me, it would be better that you (yourselves) should consume my treasures and my stocks. If you were to devour (them), there would be recompense in a short time; for just so long we should go up and down the city, demanding our goods back in a (loud) voice, until everything were repaid. But now, you cast woes upon my heart (that are) beyond cure."  

So he spoke in his wrath, and he dashed the staff down on the ground, as he burst into tears; and compassion took hold of all of the people. Then, all the others were silent, and no one had the heart to answer Telemachus with angry words; 

Ll. 84-128. Antinous justifies the suitors' behaviour. 

Antinous alone spoke to him in reply: "Telemachus, (you) braggart, unrestrained in your fury, what (a thing) you have said, putting us to shame; so you wish to fasten the blame on us. But (it is) not the Achaean suitors (who) are at fault in any way, but your own dear mother, who, let me tell you, knows cunning tricks better than any other (woman). For already it is the third year - and the fourth will soon be (upon us) - during which she deceives the hearts in the breasts of the Achaeans. She offers hope to all, and makes promises to each man, when sending (them) messages, but her mind is set on other (things). And she has set up in her halls a great web, full of fine thread and very wide (it is), and (on it) she has begun to weave; and at once she spoke with us: 'My young wooers, since godlike Odysseus is dead, be patient, though you are eager for my marriage, until I finish this (piece of) cloth - for let not my spinning come to nothing! - (for it is) a shroud for lord Laertes, for the time when the deadly fate of grievous death shall strike him down, lest any of the Achaean women in this land should be angry with me, if (a man who) won (so) many (possessions) should lie without a burial cloth.'

"So she spoke, and our manly hearts persuaded us (to agree). Then, day by day she kept weaving at her great web, but at night she unravelled (it), when she had torches placed beside (her). So for three years she beguiled the Achaeans by this trick, and kept their trust. But, when the fourth year came and the seasons went by, then one of her women, who knew all about it, informed us, and we caught her unravelling the splendid web. So she completed it against her will  by necessity; the suitors answer you thus, (Telemachus), so that you yourself may know (it) in your heart, and all the Achaeans (as well); send your mother away, and command her to wed whomever her father bids and (who) is pleasing to her. But, if she continues to vex the sons of the Achaeans for a long time, and is mindful of this in her heart, that Athene has endowed her above other (women) with knowledge of very beautiful handiwork, and an excellent mind, and wiles, such as hers, which we have never yet heard that any, even of the women of old (did devise); of those who were formerly fair-tressed Achaean women, Tyro for instance, and Alcmene, and Mycene of the lovely crown, not one of them was like Penelope in shrewdness of mind; however, she did not devise this (scheme) in a fitting manner. For they (i.e. the suitors) will continue to devour your livelihood and your possessions for as long as she shall keep the plan which the gods have now put in her heart. She is creating great fame for herself, but for you the loss of much of your substance. (As for) us, we shall not go to our own estates, or anywhere else, until she marries whichever one of the Achaeans she chooses."  

Ll. 129-176. After the omen of the two eagles, Halitherses prophesies. 

Then, wise Telemachus spoke to him again in reply: "Antinous, it is by no means possible that I might thrust from this house against her will (the woman) who bore me and reared me; and, as for my father, (he is) elsewhere in the world, but whether he is alive or dead (we do not know); it would be a terrible (thing) for me to repay Icarius a great (sum), if I myself should willingly send my mother away. For from him, her father, I should suffer evil, and a god will send other (evils), since she will invoke the avenging Furies, as she leaves this house; and for me there will be blame from men; so I shall never give this instruction. If your heart is indignant at these (things), (then) leave my halls, and prepare other feasts, eating your own substance, and moving alternately from house to house. But if it seems to you to be better and more desirable that one man's livelihood should be destroyed without compensation, (then) consume (it); but I shall call upon the gods that live forever, (to see) if somehow Zeus will grant that deeds of requital do occur. Then may you perish within my halls unrequited."

So spoke Telemachus, and then Zeus, who sees from afar, sent forth two eagles to fly from on high from a mountain peak. For a while they flew in company with the blasts of the wind, close to one another with outstretched wings; but when they reached the middle of the assembly, then they wheeled about and rapidly flapped their wings, and they looked down on the heads of everyone, and their looks forebode destruction; then they tore their cheeks and necks on all sides with their talons, and darted to the east across the houses and the city of the inhabitants. They were amazed at the birds, when the saw (them);  with their eyes; and  they pondered in their hearts at what was about to happen. Then among them, spoke the lordly old man, Halitherses, son of Mastor; for he surpassed all his peers in his knowledge of birds and in uttering words of fate; he sat in debate with good intentions, and addressed them (as follows):     

"Listen to me now, men of Ithaca, (and) to what I have to say; and to the suitors do I especially declare and say these (things); for upon them a great calamity is rolling; for Odysseus will not be apart from his friends for long, but, I think, he is already nearby and is sowing (the seeds of) bloodshed and death for all of them; and this will also be a disaster for many others who dwell on clear-skied Ithaca. But long before (that), let us plan how we can put a stop to (this); and let them themselves bring (it) to an end; for straightway this is the better (course) for them. For I do not prophesy untried, but as one with sure knowledge; for in his case I declare that all (things) are fulfilled, as I told him when the Argives embarked for Ilium, and with them went Odysseus of the many wiles. I said that after many sufferings and losing all his companions, he would come home in the twentieth year; and so all this is now being brought to pass."

Ll. 177-223. Telemachus plans to search for news. 

Then, Eurymachus, son of Polybus, said to him in reply: "O old man, if you would get up now, you should go home and prophesy to your children, lest perhaps they may suffer some disaster in the days to come; in these matters, I am much better at prophesying than you. (There are) many birds that fly to and fro under the rays of the sun, and not all (of them) are (birds) of omen. As for Odysseus, he has perished in a far-off land, as I wish that you too had perished with him. (Then,) you could not talk so much about prophesying, nor would you be thus urging Telemachus on in his wrath, hoping to receive some gift for your house, if perchance, he should give (you one). But (now) I tell you this, and it shall come to pass. If you, knowing much ancient (lore), should exhort and stir up by your words a younger man to act harshly, for him in the first place it will be the more grievous, and in any case he will not be able to achieve anything, because of these (men) who are here. And on you, old man, we shall impose a fine, which you will be grieved in your heart to pay; and your pain will be bitter. And to Telemachus, I myself, in the midst of everyone, shall offer this counsel: tell your mother to go back to the (house) of her father; and they will prepare a wedding feast, and arrange the very many wedding gifts, as is it fitting should accompany a beloved daughter. For until (that happens) I do not think that the sons of the Achaeans will cease from their troublesome wooing, since, in any case, we fear no man, no, not even Telemachus, so full of words as he is, nor do we take heed of any prophecy, which you, old man, declare to no purpose, and (which) only makes you the more hated. Then his (i.e. Telemachus') goods will be ruthlessly devoured, nor shall there ever be any recompense, so long as she (i.e. Penelope) obstructs the Achaeans in relation to her marriage; now we, waiting patiently every day, are rivals on account of her excellence, nor do we pursue any other (women), whom it might be appropriate for each one (of us) to wed."  

Then, the wise Telemachus spoke to him in reply: "Eurymachus, and (all) the rest (of you), illustrious wooers that (you are), in this matter I entreat you no longer, nor do I make my case; for the gods and all of the Achaeans are already aware of it. But come, give me a swift ship and twenty companions, who shall accomplish my journey there and back. For I shall go to Sparta and sandy Pylos to seek tidings of the return of my father who has been away for so long, if perchance some man may tell me, or I shall hear a rumour from Zeus, (of the kind) which so often brings news to men; if I shall hear of my father's life and journey home, in truth, although I am sore afflicted, I could endure for a year; but, if I hear that he is dead and no longer living, then I shall return to my native land, and heap up a mound for him, and I shall bury him with due honours, (and) a great many (of them), as (will be) fitting, and I shall give my mother to a husband."  

Ll. 224-266. Mentor defends Telemachus. 

Now indeed, having thus spoken, he sat down, and among them arose Mentor, (he) who was a comrade of the noble Odysseus, and, when he departed in his ships, he entrusted to him his whole household, and (asked him) to obey the old man (i.e. Laertes) and to keep everything in its place; full of good intentions, he addressed them and spoke to (them as follows): "Listen to me now, men of Ithaca, (and) to what I have to say: let no sceptred king be deliberately kind and gentle any longer, nor know (what is) right in his head, but let him always be harsh and do evil (things); (this is) because not one of the people whose lord he was remembers divine Odysseus, though he was mild like a father (to them). But, in truth, I do not begrudge in any way the haughty suitors that they perform deeds of violence in the base scheming of their minds; for (it is) at the hazard of their lives that they are (so) violently devouring the household of Odysseus, whom they say will return no longer. But now (it is) with the rest of the people that I am angry, how (it is) that you all sit (there) in silence, and utter no words at all of rebuke (so as) to put a stop to the suitors, (although they are) few, (while you) are many."

Then, Euenor's son, Leocritus, spoke to him in reply: "Mentor, (you) mentally crazed mischief maker, what kind of thing have you said, bidding our (people) to make (us) cease! And (it is) a painful (thing), even for men with the advantage in numbers, to fight just about a feast. For even if Ithacan Odysseus himself were to come, eager in his heart to drive the haughty wooers (who are) feasting in his house out of his hall, his wife would not rejoice at his coming, even though she was yearning (for him) greatly, but he would bring upon (himself) a shameful death then and there, if he were to fight with men who outnumbered (him); but you have not spoken properly. But come (now, you) people, disperse, each one (of you) to his own lands, and, as for this (fellow) (i.e. Telemachus), Mentor and Halitherses will speed him on his way, as they are his father's companions from long ago. But I believe that he will never make this journey, but sit (here) in Ithaca for a long time inquiring about rumours."  

So he spoke, and hastily dissolved the assembly. Then, they scattered, each to his own house, but the suitors went to the house of the divine Odysseus.

But Telemachus went separately to the shore of the sea, and, having washed his hands in the grey sea-water, he prayed to Athene: "Hear me, (O you) who came yesterday (as) a god to our house, and bid me go in a ship over the misty deep to learn of the return of my father who has been gone for so long; all of these (arrangements) the Achaeans hinder, and the suitors, in their evil insolence, most of all."  

Ll. 267-308. Athene, using the voice of Mentor, offers to prepare a ship for Telemachus. 

So he spoke in prayer, and Athene drew near to him in the likeness of Mentor, both in appearance and also in voice, and she spoke and addressed him in winged words: "Telemachus, in the time to come you will be neither a base nor a witless (man), if any of your father's fine spirit has been instilled into you, considering what a man he was in his accomplishments, both in word and deed; (so) then, this journey of yours will be neither fruitless nor unfulfilled. But, if you are not the son of him and Penelope, then I have no reason to hope that you will accomplish what you wish. For, let me tell you, few sons are like their fathers, the greater (part of them) are worse, and few (are) better, than their fathers. But since in the time to come you will be neither base nor witless, and the wisdom of Odysseus has not wholly failed you, then there is hope of you accomplishing this work. So now, heed not the will and counsel of the suitors, mad (as they are), since they are in no way intelligent or lawful; nor do they know anything of death and black fate, which, in their case, is close at hand, (for) they shall all perish in a day. And that journey of yours, on which you have set your heart, will not be long delayed; for I am such a comrade of your father's (house) that I shall prepare a swift ship for you, and I shall go with (you) myself. But go to your house (now) (and join) the crowd of suitors, and make ready provisions and put everything in vessels, the wine in jars, and barley-meal, the marrow of men, in stout skins; and I will gather willing comrades from the town. Now, there are many ships in sea-girt Ithaca, new and old; of these I will choose for you the one that (is) best, and we will quickly get (her) ready and launch (her) on the broad deep." 

So spoke Athene, daughter of Zeus; nor did Telemachus tarry for long, when he heard the voice of the goddess; but he went his way to his house, and his heart was sorrowful, and there he found the haughty suitors in his halls, skinning goats and roasting hogs in the courtyard. And, with a laugh, Antinous went straight to Telemachus, and grasped him by the hand and spoke these words (to him) and addressed (him) by name: "Telemachus, (you) braggart, unrestrained (as you are) in your daring, let there be no other evil word or deed in your heart, but, I pray you, eat and drink, just as (you did) before. All these (things) the Achaeans will surely provide for you, the ship, (that is,) and the chosen oarsmen, so that you may speedily go to most holy Pylos to hear (news) of your noble father." 

Ll. 309-360. After the suitors have mocked him, Telemachus gathers the provisions for his trip. 

Then, wise Telemachus spoke to him in reply: "Antinous, it is by no means possible (for me) to feast quietly and to make merry at my ease with your overweening (companions). Is it not enough that in the past you consumed many goodly possessions of mine, while I was still a child? But now that I am grown and learn (by) hearing the words of others, and as now my spirit waxes within me, I shall try to hasten your evil fate, either (by) going to Pylos, or (by staying) here in this land. But go I will, nor will the voyage that I speak of (as) a passenger, be in vain; for I am not the owner of the ship or its oarsmen; as, I suppose, seemed to you to be the more profitable (policy)."  

So he spoke, and easily withdrew his hand from the hand of Antinous; and the suitors were busy with the feast throughout the hall. Then, they mocked and taunted (him) in their speech. And thus would one of the overbearing young men speak (to him): "For sure now Telemachus is planning our murder. He will bring men to help (him) from sandy Pylos, or even from Sparta, since he is now so terribly set upon (it); or he wants to go to the rich land of Ephyra (i.e. a city of Thesprotia in north-western Greece) to bring deadly drugs from there and drop (them) in the wine-bowl and kill us all."

And again another of the arrogant young men would say: "But who knows, if he himself goes on the hollow ship, he may perish wandering far from his friends, just as Odysseus (did)? And so he would cause our troubles to grow even more; for we should have to divide up his possessions among ourselves, and then we should have to give this house to his mother and the man who should wed (her)."

So they spoke, but he (i.e. Telemachus) went down to his father's inner chamber, a wide (storeroom) where gold and bronze lay in piles, and raiment in large chests, and plenty of fragrant olive-oil; and in (it) there stood great jars of wine, old and sweet to drink, holding the unblended divine drink within (them), packed close in rows along the wall, if ever Odysseus should return home, even after suffering (so) many grievous (troubles). The closely fitted double-doors were locked; and a housekeeper was there inside (it) night and day, (and) she, with all her wits about her, kept everything safe, Eurycleia (that is), the daughter of Ops, the son of Pisenor. Then, Telemachus summoned (her) to the storeroom and spoke to her (as follows): "Come now, nurse, and draw wine for me in jars, sweet (wine) that (is) the choicest next to that which you are guarding, (ever) thinking of that ill-fated one, if perchance Zeus-born Odysseus may come, having escaped death and the fates. Now fill twelve (jars) and fit (them) all with lids. And pour my barley-meal into well-sewn skins; and let there be twenty measures of barley-meal crushed in a mill. But keep the knowledge (of it) to yourself alone; and let all the (provisions) be got together in piles; for in the evening I shall fetch (them), when my mother goes up to her upper-chamber and thinks of (going to) bed. For I am going to Sparta and to sandy Pylos, to seek news of the return of my dear father, if perchance I shall hear (some)."  

Ll. 361-387. Eurycleia agrees not to tell Penelope of Telemachus' mission until some time has elapsed after his departure. 

So he spoke, and his beloved nurse Eurycleia let out a cry, and, as she wept, she spoke these winged words to (him): "Why then, my dear child, has this thought come into your mind? How are you willing to go over the wide earth, when you are an only (son) and well-beloved? Zeus-born Odysseus has perished far from his native-land in an unknown country. And, as soon as you are gone, these (men) will devise evil (things for you) thereafter, so that you may die through their cunning, and they will divide all these (things) among themselves. But stay here, sitting on (all) your (possessions); there is absolutely no need for you to suffer evil (things) and to go wandering over the barren sea." 

Then, wise Telemachus spoke to her again in reply: "Take heart, nurse, since, I must tell you, this plan is not without (the support) of the gods. but you must swear not to say (anything about) this to my dear mother, until the eleventh or twelfth (day) has come, or she herself shall miss me and she hears that I have gone, lest she mars her fair face with weeping."

So he spoke, and the old woman swore a mighty oath to the gods that she would not do so. But when she had sworn and accomplished that oath of hers, then at once she poured wine into large jars for him, and poured barley-meal into well-sewn skins. And Telemachus went to the house and joined company with the suitors. 

Then, the goddess, bright-eyed Athene, had another idea. In the likeness of Telemachus, she went everywhere through the city, and she stood beside each man (i.e. each of the twenty men she had selected) and spoke words (to them), and she bid (them) gather beside the swift ship when evening came. And then she asked Noemon, the splendid son of Phronius, for a swift ship; and he readily promised it to her.  

Ll. 388-434. Athene and Telemachus depart.   

Now, the sun set and all the ways grew dark, and then she drew the swift ship down to the sea, and she put into it all the gear which well-benched ships should carry. And she moored it at the farthest point of the harbour, and round (it) the goodly companions gathered in a throng; and the goddess encouraged each (man). 

Then, the goddess, bright-eyed Athene, had another idea. She went her way to the house of divine Odysseus; (and) there she began to shed sweet sleep upon the suitors, and she kept clouding their minds as they drank, and she cast the cups from their hands. Then, they rose and went to their beds in the town, nor did they remain seated for any length of time, since sleep fell on their eyelids. Then, the bright-eyed Athene spoke to Telemachus, calling (him) forth from the well-inhabited halls, in the likeness of Mentor, both in form and also in voice: "Telemachus, your well-greaved comrades are already sitting at the oar awaiting your (instruction) to set out; but (come), let us go, so that we no longer delay their voyage."  

Having spoken thus, Pallas Athene swiftly led the way; and then he followed in the footsteps of the goddess. Now, when they came down to the ship and the sea, then they found their long-haired comrades on the shore. And the strong and powerful Telemachus spoke among them (thus): "Come, my friends, let us fetch the provisions for the journey; for (they are) all now gathered together in the hall. My mother knows nothing about (it) at all, nor the housemaids either, and only one (person) has heard my account (of it)."

Having spoken thus, he led the way and they followed after (him). So, they brought everything and stowed (it) in the well-benched ship, as the dear son of Odysseus bade (them). Then, Telemachus went on board the ship, and Athene went before (him) and sat down on the stern of the ship; and Telemachus sat down beside her; and the (men) loosed the stern-cables, and came on board themselves and sat down on the benches. Then, bright-eyed Athene sent them a favourable wind, a West Wind blowing steadily and whistling over the wine-dark sea. And Telemachus urged on his comrades and ordered (them) to fasten the rigging; and they hearkened to his call. They raised the pine-mast and set it in the hollow mast-box, and bound (it) fast with forestays, and they hoisted the white sail with its well-twisted thongs of ox-hide. Then, the wind swelled out the middle of the sail, and the dark waves hissed loudly around the stem of the ship as she went; and she sped over the waves in accomplishing her journey. Then, when they had made fast the tackle in the swift black ship, they set forth mixing-bowls full of wine, and poured libations to the immortal gods who live forever, and above all to the bright-eyed daughter of Zeus. And all night long and into the dawn, the (swift ship) ploughed her way.

HOMER: "ODYSSEY": BOOK I: ATHENE VISITS TELEMACHUS.

HOMER: "ODYSSEY": BOOK I: ATHENE VISITS TELEMACHUS.

Introduction:

One of the peculiarities of the "Odyssey" is that Odysseus, the Greek hero, whose travails are the subject of this book, does not actually make an appearance himself until Book V. Indeed, the first four books describe the plight of Odysseus' only son Telemachus in the prolonged absence of his father, and how he responds to the situation of great uncertainty in which he finds himself.  Because of his particular interest in the character of Odysseus, Sabidius has previously prioritised translations of Books V-XII, but, before embarking upon the second half of the Book, and the events which occur when Odysseus finally returns to Ithaca, he has decided to undertake successive translations of the first four books, which deal with Telemachus and his exploits. 

Book I begins with an invocation to the Muse and a report of the circumstances in which Odysseus finds himself in the tenth year of his wanderings between Troy and his home island of Ithaca. Then, Zeus summons an assembly of the gods on Olympus, and, after a desperate appeal from his daughter Athene concerning the fate of Odysseus, Zeus indicates that he wishes to assist him to return safely to Ithaca. Athene then goes down to Ithaca herself in the disguise of a former male friend of Odysseus and encourages Telemachus both to seek to stand up to the outrageous behaviour of the local suitors for the hand of his mother, Penelope, and to make a journey to the mainland of Greece to seek news of his father. One of the features of Book I is that it enables us to form an opinion of the character of the young Telemachus as he begins to shoulder the burdens of manhood. He comes over as a thoughtful and discreet young man, cautious, but brave and determined. Indeed, after the firm advice he receives from the disguised Athene, his mother finds him strangely masterful.   

Ll. 1-43. Invocation and introduction. Zeus prepares to address the gods. 

(Pray) tell me, Muse, of the man of many wiles, who wandered far and wide after he had sacked the sacred citadel of Troy. He saw the cities of many men, and came to know their minds, and on the sea he suffered much anguish in his heart, striving to preserve his life and (to secure) the homecoming of his companions. But, even so, he could not save his comrades, much as he longed (to do so); for they perished through their very own blind folly, childish fools (that they were,) who devoured the cattle of Helios Hyperion (i.e. the Sun-God); but he took from them the day of their return. Of these (events), goddess, daughter of Zeus, tell us also at whatever point you please.

Then all the rest, those who had escaped sheer destruction, were at home, and were free of both war and sea; him alone, though he was longing for his return home and for his wife, did the queenly nymph Calypso, most divine of goddesses, keep in her hollow caves, yearning that he should be her husband. But, when, as the seasons revolved, and the year came round in which the gods had ordained that he should return home and (be) among his own people, not even then was he free of tribulations. But all the gods took pity (on him), except Poseidon; but he continued to rage unceasingly against godlike Odysseus until he could reach his native land. 

But he (i.e. Poseidon) had gone on a visit to the Ethiopians, who live far away, the Ethiopians, the remotest of men, who have been divided in two, (of whom) some (live where) Hyperion sets, and some (where) he rises, in order to take part in a hecatomb of bulls and rams. And there he was enjoying (the pleasures of) the feast; but the other (gods) were gathered together in the halls of Olympian Zeus. And the father of men and gods was the first to speak to them; for he had in his mind the handsome Aegisthus (i.e. the lover of Clytemnestra, who murdered her husband Agamemnon when he returned from Troy) whom Orestes, the far-famed son of Agamemnon, had slain; and, thinking of him, he spoke these words to the immortals:  

"For shame, to think how mortals are ready now to blame the gods! For they say that evils come from us, buy they themselves also by their own reckless sins have sorrows beyond their destiny, as even now Aegisthus exceeded his destiny when he wooed the wedded wife of the son of Atreus and slew him on his return, though he knew that (this would lead to) his utter destruction, since we had spoken to him beforehand, sending Hermes, the watchful slayer of Argus, (to tell him) not to slay the man (i.e. Agamemnon), nor woo his wife; for from Orestes retribution shall come for (the murder of) Atreus' son, once he has come to manhood and is longing (to inherit) his land. So spake Hermes, but, despite his good intention, he failed to persuade the mind of Aegisthus; and now he has paid in full the price for everything."

Ll. 44-79.  In response to Athene's concern about the fate of Odysseus, Zeus indicates his wish to assist him to return home.   

And then bright-eyed Athene answered him: "O father of us (all), son of Cronos, (and) highest of lords, surely that (man) lies in fitting ruin; so too may any other who does such deeds be destroyed; but my heart is torn for wise, ill-fated Odysseus, who suffers sorrows far from his friends on a sea-girt island, just where the centre of the sea is. (It is) a wooded island, and a goddess dwells in a house therein, (and she is) the daughter of crafty Atlas, who knows the depths of every sea, and himself supports the tall pillars that keep earth and sky apart. His daughter (i.e. Calypso) holds back that wretched sorrowing (man), and she charms him with soft, winning words, (suggesting) that he should forget Ithaca; but Odysseus, in his longing to see the smoke springing up from his land, yearns to die. Yet even now, Olympian, your own heart does not give heed to this at all. Now did not Odysseus, beside the ships of the Argives, freely offer to make sacrifices on the broad (land) of Troy (i.e. the Troad)? Why then are you so greatly aggrieved at him, (O) Zeus?" 

Then, Zeus the cloud-gatherer, spoke to her in reply: "My child, what a word has escaped the barrier of your teeth (i.e. what nonsense you are speaking)!  How could I forget godlike Odysseus, who surpasses (all other) mortals in wisdom, and (who) gave sacrifices more abundantly to the immortal gods who inhabit broad heaven? But (it is) Poseidon the earth-supporter (who is) always (so) implacably wrathful (towards him), on account of the Cyclops whose eye he blinded, (namely) the godlike Polyphemus, whose strength is greatest among all the Cyclopes; and the nymph Thoosa bore him, (she) who is the daughter of Phorcys, who rules over the barren sea, for she slept with Poseidon in the hollow caves. From that time onward Poseidon the earthshaker does not actually slay Odysseus but leads (him) astray from his native land. But come, let all of us who are here take careful thought of his journey home, so he may return; and Poseidon will have to let go of his anger; for he will not be able to contend alone in opposition against the will of all the immortal gods."  

Ll. 80-124. Athene goes to visit Telemachus. 

Then, the goddess, the bright-eyed Athene, answered him: "O father of us (all), son of Cronos, (and) highest of lords, if indeed it (is) pleasing to the blessed gods that wise Odysseus should return to his home, let us rouse Hermes, the slayer of Argus, (to go as) a messenger to the island of Ogygia, so that he may speedily tell the fair-tressed nymph of our fixed resolve that stout-hearted Odysseus should set off on his homeward journey. But, as for me, I shall go to Ithaca, so that I can instil more spirit in his son (i.e. Telemachus), and put the courage in his heart to call the long-haired Achaeans to an assembly and to speak his mind to all the suitors, who are continually slaying his close-packed sheep and his shambling cattle with their twisted horns. Then, I shall send (him) to Sparta and to sandy Pylos, to seek news of his father's return, if perhaps he may hear (of it), and so that a good report among men may sustain him." 

So she (i.e. Athene) spoke, and she bound beneath her feet her beautiful sandals of imperishable gold, which bore her over the deep and over the boundless earth, keeping pace with the blast of the wind, and she seized her stout spear, tipped with bronze, heavy, huge and strong (it is), and with it she subdues the ranks of heroic warriors, against whom she, the daughter of a mighty sire, bears a grudge. Then, she went darting down from the peaks of Olympus, and in the land of Ithaca she took her stand by Odysseus' outer-gate, at the entrance to the courtyard; and she held her bronze spear in her hand, and assumed the likeness of a stranger, Mentes, the leader of the Taphians (i.e. the inhabitants of Taphos, a place near the west coast of Greece). There she found the haughty suitors. They were enjoying themselves (playing) with draughts in front of the doors, sitting on hides of oxen, which they themselves had slain; (of) the heralds and busy pages, some were mixing wine and water for them in bowls, and others were washing down the tables with porous sponges and putting (them) out, and they were distributing the meat in lavish portions. 

Now, the godlike Telemachus (was) by far the first (to) see her, for he was sitting among the suitors, sad in his heart, imagining in his mind (how) his noble father, if he should come from somewhere, might effect a scattering of those suitors from his palace, and win honour for himself and be the master in his own house. As he sat among the suitors, thinking these (things), he caught sight of Athene. Then, he went straight to the porch, for in his heart he thought it shameful that a stranger should have to stand at the gates for a long time; then, drawing near, he clasped her right hand and took her bronze spear (from her), and, when he spoke, he addressed her with these winged words: "Welcome, stranger; in our house you will receive entertainment; and, when you have tasted some food, you can tell (us) what (it is) you are in need of."

Ll. 125-177. Telemachus asks Athene to explain the reason for her visit. 

Speaking thus, he led the way, and Pallas Athene followed. And, when they were inside the lofty house, he took her spear and placed it against a tall pillar, within a well-polished spear-rack, where many spears belonging to stout-hearted Odysseus were set as well, and then he led her in and sat her on a beautiful well-wrought chair, and spread a smooth (linen cloth) beneath (it); and below there was a footstool for her feet. And beside (it) he placed an embroidered chair for himself, (set) apart from the others, the suitors, lest the stranger, distressed by their noise, and, being in the company of such overweening (men), should decline the meal; and, also, he might wish to ask her about his absent father. Then, a handmaid brought water in a fine golden pitcher, and poured (it) over a silver basin, so they could wash (their hands), and beside (them) she laid out a well-polished table. And the revered housekeeper brought bread and laid (it) before (them), and she set out many delicacies, giving freely of what she had by (her); and a carver lifted up meat and placed before (them) platters containing all kinds of meat, and put golden goblets before them; and a herald came to (them) frequently, pouring out wine for them to drink.   

Then in came the swaggering suitors. And then they sat down one after another on the seats and chairs, and the heralds poured water on their hands, and the handmaids heaped bread in baskets beside them, and the pages filled the mixing-bowls (to the brim) with drink. And they put out their hands to the food that was set out just in front of (them). Now, when the suitors had satisfied their desire for food and drink, they turned their hearts to other (things, namely) song and dance; for these (are) the accompaniments of a feast. and a herald put a most beautiful lyre into the hands of Phemius, who was forced to sing among the suitors. Indeed, he had (just) begun to sing a pleasant (song).

But Telemachus addressed the bright-eyed Athene, putting his head close (to hers), so that the others might not hear (him): "Dear guest, will you be angry with me, (if) I should say something? To (men) such as these, things such as lyre and song are managed easily (enough), since they consume another's livelihood without any compensation, (in this case,) of a man whose white bones are perhaps made to rot in the rain, as they lie on the mainland, or a wave rolls (them) in the sea. If they were to see him returned to Ithaca, they would all pray to be swifter of foot than richer in gold and raiment. But now has he thus perished by an evil fate, nor is there any comfort for us, if anyone of the men upon the earth should predict that he will come; for the day of his return is gone (forever). But come (now), tell me this, and tell (it to me) truly: who are you among men, and from where (do you come)? (And) where (is) your city, and (who are) your parents? And on what kind of (vessel) did you come to this island, and how did sailors lead (you) to Ithaca? And who did they profess to be? For in no way do I think that you came here on foot. (And) tell me this truly also, so that I may know (it) well, whether you are coming here for the first time, or whether you are even a guest-friend of my father, since many were the men (who came) to our house (as) strangers, since he too was conversant with men."  

Ll. 178-229. Athene introduces herself as Mentes of Taphos. 

Then, the goddess, bright-eyed Athene, answered him: "Well then, I shall truly tell you everything. I declare that I am Mentes, son of wise Anchialus, and that I am lord of the sea-loving Taphians. But now I have put in here with my ship and its crew, sailing over the wine-dark sea to (meet) some strange-speaking men at Temesa with its (stocks of) bronze, and I bring gleaming iron. My ship has been berthed by the (open) countryside some distance from the city in Rheithron Cove beneath Neion's woods. We declare (ourselves) to be guest-friends of one another, (just as) our fathers (were) of old, if you'll only go and ask that old warrior Laertes, who they say no longer comes to the city, but from afar endures his toils (i.e. lives a hard life) on his farm, with an old woman attending (him), who places food and drink beside him, when weariness takes hold of his limbs as he creeps along the ridge of his vineyard plot. But now I am come; for they did say that he was living at home among his people, your father, (that is); but now the gods are thwarting his journey (home). For godlike Odysseus has not yet perished, but is still living somewhere on the earth, and is detained on a sea-girt island in the broad sea, and harsh men keep him (there), savage (men they are,) who are doubtless restraining him against his will. But now I shall make you a prophecy, as the immortals put (it) in my mind, and I think that it will be fulfilled, though I am in no way a soothsayer, nor one who knows for sure the (signs of) birds. Yet, not much longer, let me tell you, will he be (absent) from his native-land, not even if iron bonds shall hold (him); he will devise a plan of how he will return, since he is a most resourceful (man). But come, tell me this, and tell (it to me) truly, whether tall (as you are), you are the son of Odysseus himself. Your head and your fine eyes are terribly like his, since ever so often did we mix with each other before he embarked for (the land of) Troy, whither others too, the best of the Achaeans, went in their hollow ships."

Then, the wise Telemachus spoke to her in reply: "Well then, I will speak to you, stranger, quite truthfully. My mother keeps telling me that I am his, but yet I do not know: for no man can himself ever know his parentage for certain. Would that I had been the son of some blessed man, whom old age overtook (while he was) among his own belongings! But now, since you ask this of me, they say that I am born of the man who was the most ill-fated of (all) mortal men."

Then, the goddess, bright-eyed Athene, addressed him once more: "Surely the gods have not given you so inglorious a lineage for the time to come, since Penelope bore you, such (as you are). But come. tell me this, and tell (it to me) truly: what is this feast, and (what is) this throng? And what, pray, is your need (for it)? (Is it) a private banquet or a wedding (feast)? (For) it is clearly not a meal where everyone contributes his own share; so, to me they seem to be feasting in your house riotously and in an overbearing manner. Seeing their many disgraceful (acts), a man would feel anger, (that is) any man of understanding who should come among (them)." 

Ll. 230-279. Telemachus complains about the behaviour of the suitors, and Athene expresses her disgust at what he tells her. 

Then, the wise Telemachus spoke to her in reply: "Stranger, since you are indeed asking and questioning me about this, this house was once likely to have been prosperous and respectable, when that man (i.e. Odysseus) was still among (us); but, since then, the gods have willed otherwise, meditating sinister (designs), and they have made him invisible to all (other) men, since if he were dead, and if he had fallen among his companions in the land of Troy, or (he had died) in the arms of his friends, when he had wound up the long thread of war, I should not grieve over (him) so much. In that case, the whole host of the Achaeans would have made him a tomb, and for his son too he would have won great glory in the days to come. But, as it is, the spirits of the storm have snatched him up ingloriously, and he has gone out of sight and out of hearing, and in my case he has left behind (much)  weeping and wailing. Nor do I, in any way, weep and wail for him only, since the gods have granted me other bad troubles. For all of the princes who hold sway over the islands, Dulichium, Same, and wooded Zacynthus, and those who lord (it) over rocky Ithaca, all of these are wooing my mother, and wrecking my house. But she neither declines the hateful marriage, nor can she (bring herself to) take the final step; and, by their feasting, they are exhausting (the resources of) my household, and soon they will even destroy me myself." 

Then, overcome with wrath, Pallas Athene addressed him: "For shame, in truth you do have much need for the absent Odysseus, that he might lay his hands on these shameless suitors. For if (only) he would come now and take his stand at the outer gates of the house, with helmet and shield and two spears, (a man) such as he was (when) I first observed him in our house, drinking and making merry, on his way back from Ephyra (i.e. a city in northwestern Greece), from the house of Ilus, son of Mermerus - for thither too went Odysseus in his swift ship in search of a deadly drug, that he might have it to anoint his bronze-tipped arrows; but he did not give (it) to him, since he stood in awe of the ever-living gods, but my father gave (it) to him; for he regarded him with great affection - (yes, if only) such a man, as Odysseus was, would meet up with these suitors; then they should all find swift destruction and a bitter end to their wooing. But in truth these (matters) lie on the knees (i.e. in the lap) of the gods, whether he shall return and wreak vengeance on them in these halls, or not; and I bid you consider how you may drive away these suitors from your hall. But come now, listen to, and take heed of, my words; on the morrow call your Achaean gentlemen to an assembly, and announce your will to (them) all, and let the gods also be your witnesses. Bid the suitors disperse to their own (people), and your mother, if her heart is urging her to marry, let her go back to the hall of her very powerful father (i.e. Icarius, who had settled in Acarnania); and her (kinsfolk) will provide the wedding feast and arrange the numerous suitors' gifts, all those that are fitting to follow as the price of a well-loved daughter. And yourself, I shall counsel firmly, if you would (but) hear (me). 

Ll. 280-324. Athene advises Telemachus to seek news of his father.

"Man a ship with twenty oarsmen, the best one that (you have), and go forth to learn about your father who has been gone for so long, if by chance some mortal may tell you, or you may hear a rumour (sent) from Zeus, (of the kind) which so often brings news to mortal men. First, go to Pylos and question godlike Nestor, and from there (go) to Sparta (and) to auburn-haired Menelaus; for he (was) the last of the bronze-clad Achaeans (to) return home. If you should hear that your father (is) alive and coming home, though you are certainly being abused, you could still endure for a year; but, if you hear that he has died and is no longer living, then you should return to your native land and build him a mound, and pile funeral gifts upon (it). as many as are fitting, and give your mother to a husband. Now, when you have settled and done these (things), you must consider in your heart and in your mind how you may slay those suitors in your halls, whether by guile or openly. You no longer need to hold to childish (ways), since you are no longer of such an age. Or are you not aware of how much fame godlike Orestes won among all of mankind when he slew his father's murderer, the guileful Aegisthus, because he had killed his father? You too, my friend, for I see that you (are) handsome and tall, be you valiant, so that one yet to be born may also praise you. But now I shall go down to my swift ship and my comrades, who, I believe, are awaiting me with much impatience; for yourself, take care, and take heed of my words." 

Then again, the wise Telemachus spoke to her in reply: "Stranger, in truth you say these (things) with kind intentions, as a father (speaks) to his son, and never shall I forget them. But come now, tarry (for a while), eager as you are for the road, so that, (when you have) bathed and have gladdened your heart to the full, you may go to your ship, happy in your mind, bearing a precious (and) most beautiful gift, which shall be a keepsake to you from me, one of those sort of things which dear friends give to friends."  

Then, the goddess, bright-eyed Athene, answered him: "Now detain me no longer, eager as I am for the road, But whatever gift your heart may bid (you) give me, when I am am on my way back (from Temesa), (then) give (it to me) to bring home, having chosen a right beautiful (one) from the store-room); and you will have a recompense of equal value."

So speaking, the (goddess,) the bright-eyed Athene, departed, and she flew away upwards unnoticed like a bird; and she put strength and courage in his heart, and made him think of his father even more than before. And he marked (this) in his mind, and in his heart he marvelled; and it struck him that this was a god. And straightway he rejoined the suitors, (as) a man equal to the gods.   

Ll. 325-364. Telemachus rebukes his mother Penelope. 

The famous minstrel (i.e. Phemius) was singing to them, and they sat listening in silence; and he sang of the Achaeans' woeful return from Troy, which Pallas Athene had inflicted on (them). And, from her upper chamber, wise Penelope, the daughter of Icarius, took to heart (the words of) the divinely-inspired song; then, from her bedroom she came down the steep staircase, not alone, as two handmaids followed after her. Now, when she came to the suitors, she, the most divine of women took her stand by a pillar of the well-built roof, holding her shining veil before her face; and a trusty handmaid stood on either side of her. Then, bursting into tears, she addressed the divine minstrel: "Phemius, since you know many (things) which charm mortals other (than this song, and these include) the deeds of men and gods, which minstrels celebrate, sing them one of these as you sit (there), and let them drink their wine in silence; but stop singing this woeful song, which ever wrings the heart in my breast, since this never-to-be-forgotten grief bears down especially upon me. For I ever remember with longing that dear face of my husband, whose fame (is spread) widely across Hellas and the heart of Argos."

Then, the wise Telemachus spoke to her in reply: "My mother, why do you begrudge the good minstrel the right to give pleasure in whatever way his heart is moved? Now, it is not the minstrels (who are) to blame (for it), but (it is) Zeus (who is) somehow to blame, (he) who dispenses to hard-working men (good and bad fortune), to each as he wills. But to this (man) no ill-will (can be felt), if he sings of the evil fate of the Danaans; for men praise that song the more that comes most recently to (the ears of) the hearers. And, as for yourself, let your heart and soul agree to listen. For Odysseus (is) not the only (one) to have been lost in Troy on the day of his return, but other men have perished too. But go to your chamber and take care of your own tasks, the loom and the spindle, and bid your handmaids go about their business; but taking decisions is a matter for men, all (men), but especially for me; for the authority in this house is mine."   

Full of astonishment she went back to her bed-chamber; for she had taken to heart her son's wise words. Up to her upper chamber she went, together with her women handmaids, (and) there she lamented her dear husband Odysseus, until bright-eyed Athene cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids. 

Ll. 365-420. Telemachus addresses the suitors. 

But the suitors burst into uproar throughout the shadowy halls, and they all prayed to lie beside her on her bed. Then, the wise Telemachus began to speak to them: "Suitors of my mother, outrageous as you are in your insolence, for the present let us make merry with feasting, but let there be no clamour, as it is a fine (thing) to listen to a minstrel of such a kind as this (man) is, like to the gods in his voice. But in the morning let us go the place of assembly and take our seats, so that I may declare to you bluntly my message that you should leave these halls; but may you provide other feasts, eating your own substance, and moving alternately from house to house. But, if it seems to you that it is better and more desirable that one man's livelihood should be destroyed without recompense, (then) devour (it); but I shall call upon the gods that live forever (to see) if somehow Zeus may grant that deeds of requital do happen; then would you perish within my household without any compensation having been exacted."

So he spoke, and the men all bit their lips and marvelled at Telemachus, because he spoke (so) boldly. Then, Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him: "Telemachus, (it must) surely (be) the gods themselves that are teaching you to be (so) boastful, and to speak with such boldness. May the son of Cronos never make you king in sea-girt Ithaca, (though it is something) which is your heritage by birth."  

Then, the wise Telemachus spoke to him in reply: "Are you really angry with me, Antinous, for the words that I may have said? Even this I should be willing to accept, if it were given (to me) by Zeus. Do you really think that this is the worst (thing) that could be wrought among men? For (it is) not all a bad (thing) to be a king; not only does his house become rich at once, but (he) himself (becomes) more honourable. But, in truth, there are also many other kings of the Achaeans in sea-girt Ithaca, (both) young and old; may one of these gain this (place), since godlike Odysseus is dead; but I shall be lord of our own house and of the slaves that godlike Odysseus won for me."

Then, Eurymachus, son of Polybus, spoke to him in reply: "In truth, Telemachus, this (matter), (that is) which one of the Achaeans shall be king in sea-girt Ithaca, lies on the knees of the gods (i.e. is in the lap of the gods); (as for) your possessions, you may keep (them) yourself, and you may be lord in your own house. For never may that man come who, against your will and by violence, will deprive you of your possessions, while people are still dwelling on Ithaca. But I do wish to ask you, (O) best of men, about the stranger, from where this man (comes), and from what land does he declare himself to be, and where now (are) his kinsmen and his native soil. Does he bring us some tidings of your father's coming, or does he come thus searching for some need of his own? (I noticed) how he sprang up and was gone straightaway, nor did he wait (for us) to recognise (him); and yet, in his appearance, he did not look at all like a base (fellow)."

Then, the wise Telemachus spoke to him once more in reply: "In truth, Eurymachus, (the prospect of) my father's homecoming is dead and gone. So I no longer let myself be persuaded by any message, wherever it may come from, nor do I take heed of any prophecy, of the kind which my mother may learn from a seer (whom she has) called to the hall. But this (man) is a guest-friend of my father's house from Taphos, and he declares himself to be Mentes, son of the wise Anchialus, and he is the lord of the sea-loving Taphians."

So spoke Telemachus, but in his heart he knew (her as) an immortal goddess.  

Ll. 421-444. Telemachus and Eurycleia.

Now, they (i.e. the suitors) turned to dancing and the delights of song, and they made merry, and waited for evening to come on. And, as they made merry, dark evening came upon them; then, they went, each to his own house, to take their rest. But Telemachus, where his lofty upper-chamber was built in the very beautiful courtyard in a place with a clear view around it, there he went to his bed, pondering many (things) in his mind. And, (as she went along) with (him), the true-hearted Eurycleia, daughter of Ops, the son of Pisenor, carried blazing torches for him, (she,) whom Laertes had once bought as his own property, when she was still in the prime of youth, for the price of twenty oxen, and he showed her equal honour to (that which he showed) his faithful wife, but he never lay with (her) in his bed. For he sought to avoid the wrath of his wife; (as she went along) with (him), she bore his flaming torches, for, of (all) the handmaids, she loved him the most, and had nursed (him) when he was a child. Then, he opened the doors of the well-built chamber, and sat down on the bed, and took off his soft tunic; and he put it in the hands of the discreet old woman. She folded and smoothed down the tunic and hung (it) on a peg beside the perforated bedstead, and then she went forth from the chamber, and she pulled the door to by its silver handle, and drove home the bolt by means of its leather strap. So, there, all night long, wrapped in  the fleece of a ram, he pondered in his mind the journey which Athene had shown (him).    

 

HOMER: ODYSSEY: BOOK XII: SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS

Introduction:

Book XII of the "Odyssey" concludes the long account that Odysseus gives the Phaeacians of the events which have occurred to him since he left the hospitality of Calypso and arrived on the island of Scheria, where he is entertained by King Alcinous and his family. The story which Odysseus tells Alcinous and his spell-bound courtiers takes up four of the Odyssey's twenty-two books, and covers the following topics: the Cyclops (Bk. IX), Circe (Bk. X), the Kingdom of the Dead (Bk. XI), and Scylla & Charybdis (Bk. XII). By the time Book XII opens, Odysseus' followers have been reduced to the crew of but one boat. When they leave the island of Aeaea, they have to face the successive hazards, of the Wandering Rocks, the Sirens, the six-headed monster Scylla and the devilish whirlpool, Charybdis. Finally, they come to Thrinacia, the island of Helios, the Sun-God, whose sheep and cattle they have been warned by Circe that they must not touch. Unfortunately, in the temporary absence of Odysseus, his men are induced by Eurylochus, one of his chief lieutenants, to slaughter, and feast on, the pick of Helios' oxen. The enraged Sun-God prevails upon Zeus to avenge his dead cattle, and, when they set sail again, a mighty storm arises which sinks the ship. All the men are drowned, save Odysseus, who had not been involved in the earlier sacrilege, and the Book ends with Odysseus telling of his arrival at Ogygia, the home of the nymph and demi-goddess Calypso, where, as have learned earlier in Book V, he is sadly to be marooned for the next seven years. The end of Book XII is a significant moment in the work as a whole, as from then onwards we learn of Odysseus' return to Ithaca and the events that follow.

Ll. 1-35.  Odysseus tells his tale. They return to Aeaea, where Elpenor's body is cremated.  

"Now, when our ship had left the stream of the river of Ocean and had come to the waves of the broad sea and the island of Aeaea, where are the dwelling and the dancing-floors of the early-born Dawn(-goddess) and the risings of the Sun, on our arrival there we beached our ship on the sands, and disembarked ourselves on to the sea-shore, and there we fell asleep and waited for the bright Dawn.

"As soon as the early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, then I sent out some of my comrades to the house of Circe to fetch the body of the dead Elpenor. Then, at once we chopped up some logs (of wood), (and at the point) where the shore jutted out the farthest, we performed his funeral rites, sorrowfully and shedding big tears. But, when his corpse was burned, and the dead man's armour too, we heaped up a mound and dragged a pillar of stone on to (it), (and) on the top of the mound we planted his shapely oar.

"So we performed each of these (rites); now our return from Hades had not escaped Circe's notice, but she came very quickly (to us) well adorned; and, at the same time, her handmaidens brought her bread, and a plentiful (supply of) meat, and sparkling red wine. Then, the most divine of goddesses addressed (us), as she stood in our midst: '(O what) reckless (men you are), who have gone down alive into the house of Hades, dying twice, when other men die once. But come, eat food and drink wine here all day long; then I shall show (you) the way and make everything clear, so that you may not suffer any woes or feel any bodily pain, as a result of bad planning either by sea or on land.'

"So she spoke, and then our proud hearts consented. So then we sat (there) all day until sunset, feasting on the wonderful meat and the sweet wine; but, when the sun went down and darkness came on, they (i.e. Odysseus' men) lay down by the stern-cables of the ship, and she took me by the hand and sat me down far away from my dear comrades, and she lay beside (me) and inquired into everything (that had happened); and I told her everything in accordance with the truth. 

Ll. 36-72. Circe tells Odysseus about the Sirens and the Wandering Rocks. 

"And then queenly Circe addressed me in these words: 'All these (things) (i.e. the events in Book XI) have thus been accomplished, but listen (now to my words), as I shall tell (them) to you, and some god himself will remind you (of them) too. First, you will come to the Sirens, who bewitch all men that come to them. Whoever draws near to (them) unawares, and hears the voices of the Sirens, no wife and infant children ever stand beside him or rejoice at his home-coming, but the Sirens enchant (him) with their clear-toned song as they sit (there) in a meadow, and all around them (there is) a great heap of the bones of rotting men, and around these bones the skin is withering away. But row (your ship) past (them), and soften some beeswax and anoint the ears of your crew (with it), lest any of the others should hear; but, if you, yourself, wish to listen, let them bind you hand and foot in the swift ship, (standing) upright in the mast-step, and let rope-ends be fastened to (the mast) itself, so that you may listen with joy to the voice of the Sirens. But, if you should beg and command your comrades to release (you), then let them bind you in still more bonds. Now, when your crew have rowed past them, then after that I shall no longer tell you clearly as to which of two courses will be your route, but you must ponder (it) in your mind; and I will tell you about both (routes). For on one side (are) the overhanging rocks, and against these crash the great waves of dark-eyes Amphitrite (i.e. the daughter of Nereus and the wife of Poseidon); the blessed gods, let me tell you, call these the Planctae (i.e. the Wandering Rocks). There not even a bird may go by, (no,) not even the timid doves that bring Father Zeus his ambrosia, but the bare rock carries (one) of them off; and the Father sends in another (one) to make up the numbers. And not one ship of men that has come to this place has ever escaped from it, but the waves of the sea and the storms of deadly lightning toss ships' timbers and men's bodies around together. Indeed, only one seafaring ship did sail past by that (route), (namely) the 'Argo', cared for by all, as she was sailing from (the court of) Aeëtes (i.e. the king of Colchis, the brother of Circe, and the father of Medea). Now (the waves of the sea) would have speedily dashed her too against the great rocks, but Hera sent (her) past (them), since Jason (i.e. the captain of the 'Argo', which was bearing the Golden Fleece) was dear to her.  

Ll. 73-110.  Circe tells Odysseus about Scylla and Carybdis. 

" 'Now on the other side (there are) two crags, one of which reaches the broad heavens with its sharp peak, and a dark cloud has enveloped it; this (condition) never clears away, nor does a clear sky ever possess its peak, either in summer or during the time of the fruit-harvest (i.e. the autumn). No mortal man could climb (it), not even if he had twenty hands and feet; for (the face of) the rock is smooth, as if (it were) polished all over. And in the midst of the crag there is a murky cavern, facing towards the west (and down) to Erebus, the very place past which you shall steer your hollow ship, illustrious Odysseus. Not even a man of full body strength could reach the hollow cave with an arrow shot from his hollow ship. And therein dwells Scylla (i.e. the 'Render' or 'Tearer'), barking terribly. Her yelp is indeed as loud as a new-born puppy's, but then (she) herself (is) an evil monster: nor (is there) anyone (who) would be pleased to see her, not even a god, if he came to meet (her). Indeed, her twelve feet are all misshapen, and she (has) six very long necks, and on each (one there is) an ugly head, and within (each of these there are) three rows of thick and close-set teeth, full of the menace of death. She is sunk up to her waist in the depths of the grotto, but she sticks out her heads from the fearful abyss, and there she fishes, gazing eagerly around the cavern for dolphins and dog-fish (i.e. a species of sword-fish), and (to see) if she may catch (any of) the  larger creatures (i.e. seals) which the much-groaning Amphitrite rears in their thousands. No sailors may ever yet boast that they have fled past her in their ship unscathed; for with each head she carries off a man (whom she has) snatched from the dark-prowed ship.  

" 'The other crag (is) lower in appearance, Odysseus. (They are) close to one another; and you could shoot an arrow between them. And on it there is a great fig-tree, rich in foliage; and below this dread Charybdis (i.e. Whirlpool) sucks the dark water down. For three times a day she spews (them) up, and three time she swallows (them) in her horrible (way); may you not be there when she sucks (it) down. For no (one), not even the Earthshaker (i.e. Poseidon) could (then) save you from ruin. But be sure to keep close to Scylla's rock, and drive your ship speedily past (it), for it is far better to mourn six comrades in your ship than all (of the crew) at the same time.'  

Ll. 111-152.  They leave Aeaea once more. 

"So she spoke, but I addressed her (thus) in reply: 'But come now, goddess, be absolutely honest with me here, if (there is) some way in which I might steer clear of deadly Charybdis and yet ward off that other one (i.e. Scylla), when she tries to harm my crewmen.'  

"So I spoke, and the most divine of goddesses replied at once: '(O you) irrepressible (one), you are thinking again of the deeds and the toil of war; but you cannot escape the immortal gods, (can you)? For she is not mortal, I tell you, but an immortal fiend, fearful and grievous, and savage and not to be fought with; nor is there any defence (against her); to flee from her (is) the best (thing to do). For if you tarry  by the cliff to put on your armour, I fear she may make a dash at you once more and strike at you with her numerous heads, and seize as many men (as she has heads) (i.e. six). But row past with very great force, and (then) call upon Crataiïs, the mother of Scylla, who bore her (as) a bane to mortals; then she will stop her from darting forth again. 

" 'Then you will come to the island of Thrinacia; there feed the plentiful cattle of Helios and his goodly sheep, seven herds of cattle and as many fine flocks of sheep, with fifty (head) in each. They have no offspring, nor do they ever die. And goddesses are their shepherds, the fair-haired nymphs, Phaethusa (i.e. 'Bright') and Lampetia (i.e. Shining'), whom the lovely Neaera (i.e. 'Fresh') bore to Helios Hyperion (i.e. the Sun-god). These, when she had borne and reared (them), their queenly mother sent far away from their birthplace to look after their father's sheep and crooked-horned cattle. If you leave these untouched, and are mindful of your journey home, in truth you may still reach Ithaca, despite suffering hardships; but, if you harm (them), then I predict the destruction of your ship and its crew; and, even if you yourself manage to escape, you will arrive home late and in a wretched state, having lost all your comrades.'  

"So she spoke, and golden-throned Dawn came at once. Then, the most divine of goddesses made her way inland; now I went to the ship and exhorted my comrades to get themselves on board and to loosen the stern-cables. So, they straightway embarked and sat down on their rowing-benches. Then, sitting in a row, they struck the grey surf with their oars. And then the fair-haired Circe, that dread goddess with the voice of a woman sent us, (as) a stout companion, a favourable wind (blowing) from the stern of our dark-prowed ship and filling our sails. Having at once set in order each (piece of) tackle throughout the ship, we sat down; then the wind and the helmsman kept the (ship) on course.   

Ll. 153-191.  Odysseus and his crew approach the Sirens. 

"Then, troubled at heart, I addressed my comrades: 'My friends, it is not right that only one or two (of us) should be aware of the prophecies which Circe, that most divine of goddesses, has made to me; but I will tell (them to you), so that, knowing (them), we may either die or avoid death and destruction and make our escape. First, she told (us) to avoid the voice of the divinely sounding Sirens and their flowery meadow. She instructed that I alone should listen to their voice; but you must bind me with a very tight knot, so that I may stay fixed in this very spot, (standing) erect on the mast-step, and the rope-ends must be made fast to it. And, if I should beg you to release (me), then you must tighten my bonds (still) further.' 

"So, in my speech I revealed everything to my comrades; meanwhile, our well-built ship came speedily to the island of the Sirens; for a kindly wind had propelled (her). Then, at once, the wind ceased, and a still calm set in, and some power lulled the waves. Then, my comrades arose and furled the ship's sails and stowed them in the hollow ship (i.e. in the hold), and then they sat down at their oars, and made the sea white with their polished pinewood blades. Then, I cut up a large cake of beeswax with my sharp sword, and kneaded (the slivers) with my stout hands; then quickly the wax grew warm, when my strong pressure and the rays of the lord Helios, the son of Hyperion, worked on (it). Then, I plugged the ears of all my comrades in turn. Then they bound me together hand and foot in the ship, (as I stood) upright on the mast-step, and they made fast the rope-ends to it. Then, they sat down and smote the grey sea with their oars; but, when we were as far away as (a man) can make himself heard when he shouts, and we were making swift progress, then (the fact that) our swift ship was drawing near did not escape their notice, and they broke into their clear-toned song: 'Come hither, much-praised Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans, and bring your ship to rest, so you may hear our voice. For no one has ever sailed his ship past this spot, without hearing the melodious voice (that comes) from our lips, and then he goes on his way rejoicing and knowing (much) more. For we know all that the Argives and the Trojans suffered on the broad (plain) of Troy by the will of the gods, and we know whatever occurs on this fruitful earth.'  

Ll. 192-233.  Odysseus and his crew leave the Sirens behind them, and approach the horrors of Scylla.

"So they spoke, sending forth their beautiful voice; then my heart longed to listen, and I ordered my crew to set (me) free, making signs (at them) with my eyebrows; but they bent forward and continued to row. Then, Perimedes and Eurylochus jumped up and tied me in yet more bonds and drew (them still) tighter. But, when they had rowed past them, and we could no longer hear the voice or the song of the Sirens, then my trusty comrades quickly removed the wax with which I had plugged their ears, and freed me from my bonds.   

"But, when we had left the island, then at once I saw smoke and a great surging tide, and I heard the thundering sound (of breakers). The (men) were so frightened that their oars flew from their hands, and they all fell with a splash into the current; and there our ship came to a standstill when their pointed oars were no longer active in their hands. Then, I went up and down the ship, and stood beside each man and encouraged my comrades with these soothing words: 'My friends, we are not (the sort of men) who have never experienced any troubles before; for this evil that besets (us now) is no greater than when the Cyclops (i.e. Polyphemus) shut (us) up in his hollow cave by his mighty strength; but even then we made our escape through my valour, and planning, and (quick) thinking, and these dangers too I think we shall one day recall. So, come now, let us all agree (to do) exactly as I say. Now, keep sitting on your benches, and strike the deep swell of the sea with your oars in the hope that Zeus will allow us to escape and avoid such destruction. Helmsman, I order you thus; now, keep (this) in your mind, since you ply the rudder of our hollow ship. Keep the ship away from this smoke and surf, and stay close to the cliff (i.e. Scylla), lest you should unwittingly direct her to the other side (i.e. the Planctae), and so bring us to disaster.'

"So I spoke, and they quickly hearkened to my words. But I spoke no more of the inescapable horror of Scylla. lest somehow in their panic my comrades should stop rowing, and huddle together in the hold. Then, I let myself forget Circe's grievous instruction, as she had commanded me not to arm myself in any way; but, when I had put on my glorious armour and grasped two long spears in my hands, I stepped on to the quarter-deck of the ship's prow; for from there I was hoping to get the first view of rock-bound Scylla, the one who was bringing disaster upon my comrades. But I could not catch a glimpse of (her) anywhere, though my eyes grew weary as I gazed at all parts of the misty rock. 

Ll. 234-276.  Leaving Scylla and Charybdis in their wake, after the former has snatched six members of the crew, they reach Thrinacia, which Odysseus counsels them to avoid. 

"Then we sailed up the straits, wailing in terror; for on one side (lay) Scylla, and on the other the awesome Charybdis sucked down the salt seawater in a dreadful manner. Now, whenever she vomited (it) up, everything (from her inmost depths) would be stirred up and foam like a cauldron on a big fire, and the froth would fall from above on to the tops of both of the crags (i.e. Scylla and Charybdis); but, whenever the salt seawater was being sucked in, everything could be seen inside swirling around (in utter turmoil), and roundabout the rock roared fearfully, while beneath the earth appeared dark with sand; and pale fear seized my (men). Now we looked towards her, fearing destruction; meanwhile, however, Scylla seized from the hollow ship six of my comrades, who were the best in handiwork and strength. But, when I looked at the swift ship and in search of my colleagues at the same time, I noticed that their feet and hands (were) already (dangling) above (me), as they were raised aloft; and they were crying out, calling upon me by name, now for the last time in anguish of heart. And, as when a fisherman, (seated) upon some jutting rock, casts food as bait for the little fishes, and lowers the horn of a field-ox into the sea on his long rod, and then catches a struggling (fish) and flings (it) on to the land, so my struggling (comrades) are borne on to the rocks. There at the entrance she devoured (them) as they shrieked and stretched out their hands to me in their dreadful death-throes. That (was) the most pitiable (sight) that I beheld with my eyes of all that I bore (while) exploring the pathways of the sea.   

"Now, when we had escaped the rocks, and dread Charybdis and Scylla, then at once we came to the splendid island of the god; there were the lovely broad-browed cattle and the many sturdy sheep of Hyperion Helios. Then, while I was still out at sea in my black ship, I could hear the cattle lowing as they were being housed for the night, and the sheep bleating, and there came into my mind the words of Teiresias, the blind Theban seer, and of Circe of Aeaea, who told me very many (times) to avoid the island of Helios, who gladdens the hearts of men. Then, sad at heart, I addressed my comrades (thus): 'Listen to me, comrades in suffering, even though what I am saying (is) difficult, so that I may tell you the predictions of Teiresias, and of Circe of Aeaea, who told (me) very many (times) to avoid the island of Helios, who gladdens the hearts of men. For there, she said, lies our most deadly peril. So, drive your black ship past the island.' 

Ll. 277-326.  Odysseus and his crew land at Thrinacia.  

"So I spoke, and their hearts were broken within them. But Eurylochus answered me at once with hostile words: 'You are a hard (man), Odysseus; you (have) strength beyond (that of other men), and your limbs never tire; verily, you must be wholly wrought of iron, in that you do not allow your men, overcome (as they are) with toil, and drowsiness too, to set foot on (dry) land, so we can prepare (ourselves) a tasty supper here on this sea-girt island, but instead you tell (us) to abandon the island and to go wandering off through the swift night over the misty deep. (It is) at night that fierce winds, the wreckers of ships, spring up; how could one escape utter destruction, if, haply, there should suddenly arise a blast of the South, or of the stormy West, Wind, (as these are the ones) which most often sink ships, despite the will of our lords, the gods? But now, let us give way to the darkness of night, and cook our supper, staying at the side of our swift ship; then, in the morning, we can go aboard and put out into the broad sea.'

"So spoke Eurylochus, and the rest of my comrades gave their assent to (his speech). Then I realised that some evil spirit had a calamity in store (for us), and, speaking these winged words, I addressed him: 'Eurylochus, you are very much forcing my (hand), as I am alone (in my view). (Very well!) But come now, you must all swear this mighty oath to me: that, if we should come across any herd of cattle or some great flock of sheep, no one shall ever slay a single ox or sheep in (a fit of) wanton recklessness; just be at ease and eat the food which immortal Circe has provided.'    

"So I spoke, and at once they swore a solemn oath, just as I had bade (them). Then, when they had sworn and completed the oath, we moored our well-built ship in a deep harbour near (a spring of) sweet water, and the crew disembarked from the ship, and then skilfully prepared their supper. But, when they had satisfied their desire for food and drink, then they lamented, as they remembered their dear comrades, whom Scylla had snatched from the hollow ship and devoured; and sweet sleep came upon them as they wept. 

"But when it was the third (watch) of the night, and the stars had passed their zenith, Zeus the cloud-gatherer whipped up a stormy wind by means of a wondrous tempest, and covered land and sea alike with clouds; and night rushed down from heaven. When early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, we beached our ship and dragged (her) into a hollow cave. Now there there were the fair dancing-floors and meeting places of the nymphs; and then I called a meeting, and spoke these words in their midst: 'My friends, as there is meat and drink in our swift ship, let us keep away from these cows, lest we come to some harm; for these (are) the cows and sturdy sheep of a dread god, Helios (that is, he,) who oversees everything and overhears everything.'  

"So I spoke, and their proud hearts consented to these (words). Then, for a whole month the South Wind blew unceasingly, nor did any other of the winds arise except the East and South (winds).   

Ll. 327-363.  Odysseus' crew break their oath.

"As long as they had bread and red wine, so they kept away from the cattle, as they were anxious to save their lives. But, when the provisions in the ship had all been consumed, and they were, of necessity, wandering about, with curved hooks, in quest of game, fishes, fouls, and whatever might come into their hands, for hunger was pinching their bellies, then I went away up into the island to pray to the gods, (to see) if anyone (of them) might show me a way to escape. But, when I went on my way through the island, I prayed to all of the gods who dwell on Olympus; then Eurylochus began to outline a wicked plan to his comrades: 'Listen to my words, my comrades in suffering such hardships. To (us) wretched men, all forms of death (are) abominable, but to die, and thus to meet one's fate, by starvation (is) the most pitiable. But come, let us round up the best of the Sun's cows, and let us sacrifice (them) to the immortals who dwell in the broad sky. If we ever reach our homeland at Ithaca, we shall at once build a gorgeous temple to Helios Hyperion, and in (it) we shall place many precious ornaments. But, if he is angered in any way at the loss of his straight-horned cattle, and he chooses to wreck our ship, and the other gods consent to (this), I would prefer to lose my life with one gulp in the waves, rather than to be slowly drained of my strength, while lying on a desert island.'     

"So spoke Eurylochus, and the rest of his comrades gave their assent to (what he said). Then at once, they rounded up the pick of Helios' cows nearby - for the fine broad-browed cows with their crooked horns were grazing not far from our dark-prowed vessel. Then, they surrounded them, and made prayers to the gods, plucking the fresh leaves from the lofty foliage of an oak-tree - for they had no (grains of) white barley on board their well-benched ship. Now, when they had prayed, and cut their throats and flayed (them), they cut out the thigh pieces and covered (them) with fat, and laid raw meat on top of them, making two layers. They had no wine to pour over the burning sacrifice, but they made libations with water, as they roasted all the entrails. 

Ll. 364-396.  Angered at the loss of his cattle, Helios complains to Zeus. 

"Now, when the thighs had been consumed by the fire and they had tasted the inner parts, then they cut up the rest and stuck (them) on skewers. Then (it was that) sweet sleep fled from my eyelids, and I made my way (back) to our swift ship and the sea-shore. But when, as I went, I drew near to our curved ship, then the sweet smell of (hot) fat enveloped me. So, I groaned and cried out loudly to the immortal gods: 'Father Zeus, and (you) other blessed gods who live forever, indeed it was to bring about my very ruin that you lulled me into that pitiless sleep. Then, left to themselves, my comrades planned this dreadful deed.' 

"Then, a swift messenger, (namely) Lampetia with her trailing robes, came to Helios Hyperion (with the news) that we had killed his cattle. Then, with a heart full of anger, he addressed the immortals: 'Father Zeus, and (you) other blessed gods who live forever, take vengeance on the followers of Odysseus, son of Laertes, who have (so) wantonly killed my cattle, in which I used to rejoice as I went towards the starry sky, and whenever I turned back again to earth from heaven. And, if they do not exact a fit recompense, I shall sink down into Hades and shine among the dead.' 

"Then, Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered him and said: 'Helios, you must surely continue to shine among the immortals and (among) mortal men on the fruitful earth; for I shall soon smite their swift ship with my bright thunderbolt and break (it) into little pieces in the midst of the wine-dark sea.' These (things) I heard from the lovely-haired Calypso; and she said that she herself had heard (them) from the messenger Hermes. 

"But, when I went down to the ship and the sea, I rebuked (my men) each in turn, one after the other, but we could not find any remedy, for the cows were already dead. Straightaway, then, the gods began to manifest portents: the hides began to crawl, the flesh, both roasted and raw, began to bellow around the spits, and a sound was heard like (the lowing) of cattle.

Ll. 397-425.  Zeus' punishment: Odysseus loses his ship and all of his comrades.  

"For six days, then, did my trusty comrades feast on the pick of the cattle of Helios, which they had rounded up; but, when Zeus, the son of Cronos, brought the seventh day upon (us), then, when the wind ceased to rage tempestuously, we quickly embarked and put out into the broad sea, after setting up the mast and hoisting the white sail. 

"But, when we left the island, and no other land appeared, but (only) sky and sea, then indeed did the son of Cronos set a dark cloud above our hollow ship, and the sea grew dark beneath it. Then, she ran on for no very long time; for straightway came the shrieking West Wind, raging with the great (force of) a hurricane, and the blast of the wind snapped both the fore-stays of the mast (i.e. the ropes that stretched from the mast-head to each side of the bows); then the mast fell backwards and all the tackle tumbled into the hold. In the stern of the ship, the (mast) struck the head of the helmsman, and, at the same time, shattered all the bones in his skull; and he plunged from the deck like an acrobat, and his manly spirit left his bones. Then, at the same moment, Zeus thundered and hurled a thunderbolt at the ship; smitten by Zeus' thunderbolt, the whole (vessel) spun around, and was filled with (the smell of) sulphur, and my comrades fell from the ship. Like sea-gulls, they were borne on the waves around the black ship, and a god put a stop to their homecoming. Then, I went backwards and forwards across the ship, till the surge loosened the sides from the keel, and a wave bore her along stripped bare (i.e. of the side-planking), and snapped off her mast from the keel. But over it (i.e. the mast) the back-stay (i.e. the single rope stretching from the mast-head to the stern) made of ox-hide had been flung; with it I lashed together both keel and mast as well, and, sitting on these, I was borne along by the deadly winds. 

Ll. 426-453. Somehow surviving countless hazards, Odysseus is washed up on the shores of Ogygia, the home of the nymph Calypso.

"Then, indeed, the West Wind ceased to rage tempestuously, but the South Wind swiftly came upon (me), bringing great distress to my heart, because it forced me to retrace my course to the deadly Whirlpool. All night long I was borne along, and when the sun rose I came to Scylla's crag and dread Charybdis. She was sucking the salty sea-water back down again; but I, springing upwards towards the lofty fig-tree, held on, clinging to it like a bat. For there was no way that I could cling on, either by establishing a firm foothold or by climbing (the tree); for its roots stretched far away (beneath), and the branches, long and great, (as they were), were high in the air and were overshadowing Charybdis. However, I continued to hold on, until she spewed up my mast and my keel once more; and, as I longed (for them), at last they came; (at the hour) when a man, who settles the many disputes between litigants seeking judgment, rises from the court for his evening meal. even then the timbers are brought to light by Charybdis. Then, I let my hands and feet be carried down from above, and I fell with a splash into the middle (of the water) clear of the long timbers, and, sitting on these, I paddled along with my hands. The Father of men and gods no longer allowed Scylla to catch sight of (me); for otherwise I should not have escaped utter destruction.       

"Thence, I was borne for nine days, but on the tenth night the gods brought me to the island of Ogygia, where dwells the fair-haired Calypso, the dread goddess with a woman's voice, who received me kindly and cared for (me). But why indeed should I tell (you) all this? For, let me tell you, I have already told (it) in this hall to you and your comely wife; and to me it is a tedious (thing) to tell again (a tale which has) plainly been told (i.e. see Book VII, ll. 240-266)."