HOMER: "ODYSSEY": BOOK IV: TELEMACHUS IN SPARTA.

HOMER: "ODYSSEY": BOOK IV: TELEMACHUS IN SPARTA. 

Introduction:

Book IV is the final and by far the longest of the four introductory books of the "Odyssey", in which Odysseus' son Telemachus is the principal character. It is a book, full of absorbing content, much of it peripheral to the main plot of the "Odyssey", but full of interest to followers of Greek myth. Just as Nestor, whom Telemachus visits in Book III, is the central character to much of that book, so in this book, Telemachus' host Menelaus fulfils a similarly key function, telling us about his deep love and respect for Odysseus, and also about his own long travails before he was able to return home to Mycenae together with his wife Helen, and the evidently cordial relationship which he is now enjoying with her is a fascinating sub-plot of the narrative. From her we learn of the vital  role which Odysseus played in the exploit of the Wooden Horse, through which the Greeks were able to capture Troy, and Menelaus adds to her account his own story about the control over the Greek warriors who were inside the Wooden Horse which Odysseus managed so successfully to exert. Further on, we learn of Menelaus' successful capture of Proteus, the Old Man of the Sea, whom he traps with the assistance of Proteus' own daughter Eidothea. As Menelaus tells Telemachus, Proteus told him about the deaths of two Greek heroes on their return home: Ajax the Lesser and Menelaus' own brother Agamemnon. Telemachus has already had Agamemnon's death confirmed to him by Nestor in Book III, but in the case of Menelaus he heard about it for the first time from Proteus, and it caused him great grief. Proteus tells him very little about Odysseus, but he does learn that he is a prisoner of the nymph Calypso on the island of Ogygia, and thus Menelaus passes this on to Telemachus. 

While the recollections of Menelaus and Helen, and the oracular accounts of Proteus, are prominent parts of the the Book, we return to Ithaca for the final third of it when we learn of the Suitors' plot to kill Telemachus when he returns from his trip to Greece. Penelope's grief, when she learns of her son's secret journey and the Suitors' intentions from the herald Medon and her old nurse Eurycleia, is very movingly portrayed by Homer, and the great stress under which Penelope lives comes across for the first time. She is not only having to endure the twenty-year absence of her husband without knowing if he is still alive, but now she fears she is going to lose her only son as well. Actually nothing comes of the Suitors' plot, and indeed at the beginning of Book V Zeus guarantees his safety, but the details of their plot and their evident willingness to murder this innocent young man does help to justify the terrible punishment they are later to receive at the hands of Odysseus. Telemachus himself does not reappear until Book XV, when he returns from Sparta to Ithaca and meets his father. 

Ll. 1-48. Telemachus and Pisistratus arrive in Sparta. 

And they (i.e. Telemachus and Pisistratus) came to hollow Lacedaemon (i.e. a district of Laconia in the southern Peloponnese, of which Sparta was the capital) full of gorges, and they drove to the palace of the glorious Menelaus. And they found him giving a marriage feast within his house to his many relatives for his noble son and daughter. He was sending his (daughter) to the son of the rank-breaking Achilles (i.e. Neoptolemus); for (it was) in (the land of) Troy that he had first promised and agreed that he would give (her), and the gods were ensuring the accomplishment of their marriage. He was sending her there with horses and chariots, in order to make her way to the glorious city of the Myrmidons (i.e. in the district of Phthia), over whom (her bridegroom) was king. But to his son, the hardy Megapenthes, his well-beloved son who was born of a slave-woman, he was bringing in marriage the daughter of Alector from Sparta; for the gods gave Helen no further issue from the time when she had first borne her lovely child Hermione, who possessed the beauty of golden Aphrodite. So they were feasting and making merry in the great high-roofed hall, (they who were) the neighbours and relatives of glorious Menelaus; and among them a divine minstrel was singing and playing the lyre; and two acrobats whirled up and down between them in dance, as they began (singing) in their midst. 

Then, the two (of them), the heroic Telemachus and the noble son of Nestor (i.e. Pisistratus) halted, both them and their horses, at the gateway of the palace; and the lord Eteoneus, the zealous squire of glorious Menelaus, came out and saw (them), and he went his way carrying a message through the halls of the shepherd of the people, and stood beside (him) and spoke these winged words: "There are some strangers yonder, O Zeus-fostered Menelaus, who look like the offspring of mighty Zeus. But tell (me), shall we unyoke their swift horses, or shall we send (them) on their way to someone else, who will welcome (them)." 

Then, auburn-haired Menelaus answered him with a great burst of anger: "In the past you have not been a fool, Eteoneus, son of Boethoüs; but now you are saying silly (things) like a child. To be sure, many were the hospitable (things) that we consumed before we came here, in the hope that Zeus would henceforth put a stop to our sorrows. Nay, loosen the strangers' horses, and lead them forward into (the house) to be entertained." 

So he spoke, and the other (i.e. Eteoneus) darted through the hall and called to the rest of the squires to follow after him. And they loosed the sweating horses from their yoke and bound them to the horses' mangers, and they threw coarse wheat down beside (them) and mixed (it) up together with white barley, and they lent the chariot against the bright inner walls (of the porch) and led them (i.e. Telemachus and Pisistratus) into the divine palace. And, when they saw (it), they marvelled at the palace of the king cherished by Zeus; for there was a gleam, as of the sun or the moon, over the high-roofed house of glorious Menelaus. But, when they had satisfied their eyes with gazing, they got into the well-polished bath-tubs and bathed. 

Ll. 49-99. As they feast, Menelaus tells of his experiences when seeking to return home. 

And, when the handmaids had washed and anointed them with olive-oil, and had cast fleecy cloaks and tunics around (them), they sat down on chairs beside Atreus' son, Menelaus. Then, a maidservant brought pure water in a fair golden pitcher, and poured it over a silver basin, so they could wash (their hands); and she drew up a polished table beside (them). And a respected housekeeper brought bread and set (it) before (them), and she laid out delicacies in abundance, willingly offering what was available. And a carver lifted up and placed before (them) platters of all kinds of meat, and he put golden goblets beside them.Then, auburn-haired Menelaus, welcoming the two (of them), said: "Take food and be glad. And then, when you have had your meal, we shall ask who among men you are; for in you the breed of your fathers is not lost, but you are of the breed of men (that are) sceptred kings cherished by Zeus, since base (men) could not beget (offspring) such (as you)." 

So he spoke, and he took in his hands and put before them roasted (meat), the fat of the chine of an ox, which they had placed beside (as) a gift of honour. Then, they stretched forth their hands to the good food lying ready before (them). But, when they had satisfied their desire for food and drink, then Telemachus spoke to the son of Nestor, with his head close (to him), so that the others might not hear: "Son of Nestor, (you who are) most dear to this heart of mine, note the flashing of bronze throughout this echoing hall, and (the flashing) of gold, and electron (i.e. a metallic substance consisting of gold alloyed with silver), and of silver, and of ivory.  I think it is like being inside the court of Olympian Zeus, such (are) the untold multitude of the things (that are) here; astonishment takes hold of me as I look."   

But, as he spoke, auburn-haired Menelaus heard (him), and he spoke to, and addressed, them with these winged words: "For sure, dear children, no mortal man could vie with Zeus; for everlasting are his halls and his possessions; but as for men, there are few or none who could rival me in wealth. For, to be sure, after suffering much and wandering widely, I brought (my possessions home) in my ships, and I came back in the eighth year, having wandered around Cyprus, and Phoenicia, and Egypt, and I came to the Ethiopians, and the Sidonians, and the Erembians, and Libya, where calves are born with horns from birth. For (there) the ewes give birth three times within the course of a year. There neither master nor shepherd lacks any cheese, or meat, or sweet milk, but always hands over the milk to be drawn in abundance all the year round. While I roamed through those (lands). gathering much livelihood, so another (man) (i.e. Aegisthus) struck down my brother (i.e. Agamemnon), by stealth, (catching him) unawares, by the cunning of his accursed wife (i.e. Clytemnestra); as you (can see), I am master of this wealth without any joy. And you are likely to have heard of these (things) from your fathers, whoever they may be, since I suffered very much, and allowed this very well-inhabited house, and (one) containing much treasure, to fall into ruin (i.e. this happened because of his long absence). I wish I dwelt in this house with but a third part of this (wealth), and that those men were safe, who were then to perish in the broad (land of) Troy, far from Argos where the horses graze. 

Ll. 100-146. Helen guesses Telemachus' identity. 

"But still, though I often bewail and mourn (them) all as I sit in my halls, at one moment I ease my heart with weeping, and then at another I cease; for quickly (comes) the surfeit of cold lamentation. (Yet) for all of these I do not lament so much as (I do) for one who causes me to loathe both sleep and food, when I think (of him), since no one among the Achaeans toiled so much as Odysseus toiled and endured. For himself woe was to be his destiny, and for myself (there is) sorrow, never to be forgotten, for him, as he has been gone for so long, nor do we have any idea as to whether he is alive or dead. Now doubtless the old man Laertes mourns him, as do the prudent Penelope, and Telemachus, whom he left as a newborn (child) in his house."  

So he (i.e. Menelaus) spoke, and stirred up a longing in him to weep for his father. When he heard his father's (name), he let tears fall from his eyelids to the ground, and he held up his purple cloak before his eyes with both hands. And Menelaus noticed him, and then pondered anxiously in his heart and mind whether he should allow him to make mention of his father himself, or whether he should make his inquiries first and examine closely everything (he said). 

While he deliberated on these (things) in his heart and mind, Helen came forth from her fragrant high-roofed chamber like Artemis of the golden shaft, and Adraste (came) with (her), and put down a beautifully wrought chair for her, and Alcippe brought a rug of soft wool, and Phylo brought a silver basket, which Alcandre had assigned to her, (she who was) the wife of Polybus, who dwelt in Egyptian Thebes, where the greatest (store of) wealth is laid up in (people's) houses; he gave Menelaus two silver bath-tubs, and two tripods, and ten talents of gold. And then, apart from that, his wife gave Helen some beautiful gifts: a golden distaff and a silver basket with wheels underneath did she give (her), and its rims were finished off with gold. The handmaid Phylo brought this and put (it) beside her, stuffed (as it was) with finely-spun yarn; and the distaff, holding dark-purple wool. And she was seated on a chair, and there was a footstool beneath her feet. And at once she questioned her husband on each matter in these words: "Do we know, (O) Menelaus cherished by Zeus, who these men, who have come to our house, declare themselves (to be)? Shall I disguise my thoughts or speak the truth? But my hearts bids me (to be truthful). For never yet do I think I have seen anyone, neither man nor woman, (who looks) so like (another person) - amazement takes hold of me as I look - as this (man) looks like the son of great-hearted Odysseus - Telemachus (that is), whom he left in his house as a newborn (child), when the Achaeans, for the sake of my shameless self, came under (the walls of) Troy, pondering bold war (in their hearts).    

Ll. 147-182. After Pisistratus has confirmed Telemachus' identity, Menelaus sets out how deep was his love for Odysseus. 

Then, auburn-haired Menelaus answered her and said: "Even so now do I note (it), wife, as you see the likeness; for such (were) his feet, and such were his hands, and the glances of his eyes, and his head and the hair on top of (it). For in truth even now as I was speaking of Odysseus, as I remembered (him), and of all the (things) that he suffered and endured for my sake, he (i.e. Telemachus) shed a bitter tear from his eyebrows, as he held up his purple cloak in front of his eyes."

Then, Nestor's son, Pisistratus, spoke to him: "(O) Menelaus, son of Atreus, cherished by Zeus, leader of hosts, let me tell you that he really (is) his son, as you say; but he is of a prudent (mind), and in his heart he feels ashamed that, having thus come (here) for the first time, he should prattle in a disorganised fashion in your presence, when we are (so) delighted by (the sound of) your voice, (which is) like that of a god. But the Gerenian horseman Nestor sent me to go with him (as) his escort; for he was longing to see you, so that you might inspire him by some word or some deed. For many (are) the woes (that) a son has in his halls when his father has gone, and he has no other helpers, as (is) now the case with regard to Telemachus, (as his father) is gone and there are no others among his people to defend (him) from ruin."  

Then, auburn-haired Menelaus answered him and said: "O yes, there has come to my house the son of a much loved man, who for my sake endured many troubles; and I thought that, when he came back, I should welcome him beyond (all) the other Argives, if far-seeing Olympian Zeus had granted the two of us that a return in our swift ships over the sea should take place. And (I would have given) him a city in Argos to dwell in, and I would have built (him) a house (there), after I had brought (him) from Ithaca with his possessions, and his son, and all his people, having emptied one of the cities (of those) who dwelt round about (it), and (who) were ruled by myself. Then, living here, we should often have met together; nor would anything have separated us, entertaining and delighting (each other, as we would have done), until (the time came) when the black cloud of death would have enfolded us. But I think that the god himself (i.e. Poseidon) must have been envious of these (plans), (since) he ensured no return for that unhappy (man) alone.   

Ll. 183-218. Menelaus praises Pisistratus for his wise words. 

So he spoke, and he aroused within all of them a longing to lament. Argive Helen wept, and Telemachus wept and (so did) Atreus' son, Menelaus, nor could Nestor's son keep his two eyes tearless; for he thought in his heart of peerless Antilochus (i.e. Nestor'e eldest son), whom the glorious son of bright Dawn (i.e. Memnon) had slain; as he thought of him, he spoke these winged words: "Son of Atreus, the old man Nestor used to say that you were wise beyond (all other) mortals, whenever we made mention of you in his halls, and questioned one another. And now, if it is at all possible, be persuaded by me (to stop crying); for I take no pleasure in weeping after supper, and, moreover, the early dawn will be (the time for that); for I feel no shame at all in weeping for any mortals who have died and met their fate. Now this is the only tribute (one can pay) to such miserable mortals, to cut off one's hair, and to let a tear fall from one's cheeks. For a brother of mine is dead, who was in no way the worst of the Argives; you may well have known (him); but I never met (him) or saw (him); now they say that Antilochus was above (all) the others, (being) exceedingly fast at running and (exceptional as) a warrior."   

Then, auburn-haired Menelaus answered him and said: "O my friend, when you say these (things, you say) all the (things) a wise man might say, and (you do all the things that a wise man might) do, even (one) that is older (than you); for from such a father (did you spring), because you also speak such wise (words), and easily known is the offspring of that man, for whom the son of Cronos spins (the thread of) good fortune, both in his marriage and in the birth (of his children), just as he has now granted to Nestor throughout all his days that he should grow old comfortably in his halls, and that his sons should be both wise and most skilful with their spears. But we shall stop the weeping, which was happening before (he spoke), and let us think once more of our supper, and of water being poured over our hands. But in the morning there will be stories for Telemachus and me to tell thoroughly to each other."

So he spoke, and Asphalion (i.e. Sure-footed), glorious Menelaus' zealous squire, poured water over their hands. And they stretched forth their hands to the good food lying ready before (them). 

Ll. 219-264. Helen speaks of Odysseus. 

Then, Helen, the daughter of Zeus, thought of something else; and at once she threw into the wine which they were drinking a drug (i.e. probably opium), which would assuage grief and allay wrath, and cause forgetfulness of all bad (things). Whoever should swallow (this), when it is mixed (with wine) in a bowl, would not let a tear fall down over his cheeks during the course of that day, (no), not even if his mother and father should have died, and not even if (a man) should have cut down his brother or his beloved son with a sword in front of (him), and he should have seen (it) with his own eyes. Such skilfully-chosen drugs did the daughter of Zeus possess, healing (drugs), which Polydamna, the Egyptian wife of Thon, had given her, there (in Egypt), where the grain-giving earth bears the greatest store of drugs, (of which) many (are) beneficial, when intermixed, and many (are) harmful. (There) each (man) is a physician skilled beyond all (other) men. For, in truth, they are of the race of Paeeon (i.e. the God of Healing). Now, when she had put in the drug, and ordered the wine to be poured, she again made answer, and spoke the following words: "Menelaus, son of Atreus, cherished by Zeus, and those of you who are here, the sons of noble men, the god Zeus gives good and ill now to one and now to another; for he can do everything; now, indeed, sit in these halls and feast, and enjoy these tales; for I will (only) relate (those that are) fitting. But I am not able to recount or enumerate how great are the feats of the stout-hearted Odysseus, but what (an achievement) this (was) that the mighty man undertook and accomplished in the land of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered such woes. Disfiguring himself with cruel blows, and flinging a wretched piece of cloth around his shoulders like a slave's, he stole into the broad-streeted city of his enemies; he concealed (himself) as another man, and likened himself to a beggar, (he) who was in no way such (a man, when he was) beside the ships of the Achaeans. Looking like this, he crept into the city of the Trojans, and they were all unaware (of him); I alone knew who he was, and questioned him; but he, in his cunning, avoided (me). But, when I was washing him and anointing (him) with oil, and had put garments on (him), and had sworn a mighty oath not to betray Odysseus to the Trojans, before he got back to the swift ships and the huts, then he told me in detail the whole plan of the Achaeans (i.e. about the Wooden Horse). And, when he had slain many of the Trojans with his long-pointed sword, he rejoined the Argives and brought back much useful information. Then, the other Trojan (women) wailed loudly; but my spirit was glad, since my heart was already longing to go back home, and I lamented the blindness, which Aphrodite (gave) me, when she led me thither from my dear native-land, having forsaken my daughter (i.e. Hermione), my bridal-chamber, and my husband, who lacked nothing at all, either in wisdom or in looks."  

Ll. 265-314. Menelaus speaks of Odysseus. 

Then, auburn-haired Menelaus said to her in reply: "Yes indeed, wife, you have said all these (things) quite rightly. By now have I come to know the will and the intentions of many heroic warriors, and I have travelled over the wide earth; but never yet have I beheld with my eyes such a great-hearted (man) as was Odysseus of the enduring spirit. And what a (thing) this (was) that the mighty man undertook and accomplished in the hewn horse, in which we chiefs of the Argives were all sitting, bringing death and doom to the Trojans. Then, you came to this place; some god must have told you (to do so), (one) who wished to grant great glory to the Trojans; and godlike Deïphobus (i.e. one of the sons of Priam, who was reputed to have married Helen after the death of Paris) followed you on your way. Three times did you encircle that hollow (place of) ambush (i.e. the Wooden Horse), touching it all over, and you called out the chiefs of the Danaans by name, and likened your voice to (the voices of) the wives of all of the Argives. Now the son of Tydeus (i.e. Diomedes), and god like Odysseus, and I were sitting in their midst, and we heard (you) as you called out. Now the two of us (i.e. Menelaus and Diomedes) were both keen to get up and go out, or to answer instantly from within; but Odysseus held (us) back and restrained (us), despite our eagerness. Then, all the other sons of the Achaeans were silent, but Anticlus alone wished to answer you with words. But Odysseus kept pressing on his mouth with his strong hands, and saved all the Achaeans; and so he held (him), till Pallas Athene led you (i.e. Helen) away."

Then, wise Telemachus spoke to him in reply: "Menelaus, son of Atreus, cherished by Zeus, leader of hosts, (this is) all the harder; for all this (i.e. Odysseus' cleverness and determination) in no way saved him from woeful destruction, nor (would it have saved him), even if his heart within him had been (made) of iron. But come (now), send us off to bed, so that, lulled now by sweet sleep, we may find our pleasure."  

So he spoke, and Argive Helen bade her handmaids place bedsteads beneath the portico and lay fine purple blankets on (them), and to spread coverlets on top of (them) and lay up fleecy cloaks to be placed over them from above. And they (i.e. the handmaids) went forth from the hall, holding a torch in their hands, and made the beds; and a herald led forth the guests. So they slept in the vestibule of the palace, both the noble Telemachus and the glorious son of Nestor; but the son of Atreus slept in the innermost chamber of the lofty house, and at his side lay Helen with her flowing robes, most divine among women. 

As soon as the child of the morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, then Menelaus, good at the war-cry, arose from his bed and put on his clothing, and slung his sharp sword around his shoulders, and bound his fair sandals beneath his gleaming feet, and he made his way from his bedroom with his face looking like a god's, and he sat beside Telemachus, and spoke these words (to him) while addressing (him) by name: "What need then, noble Telemachus, brought you here to lovely Lacedaemon over the broad back of the sea? (Is it)  public (business) or your own? (Now) tell me the truth of this!"

Ll. 315-350. Menelaus listens to Telemachus.

Then, wise Telemachus addressed him in reply: "Menelaus, son of Atreus, cherished by Zeus, leader of hosts, I came (to see) if you could provide me with any news of my father. My household is being eaten up and my rich lands have been ruined, and my house is full of men who are my foes, and who are slaughtering my close-packed sheep and my shambling cattle with their twisted horns, (and, as) my mother's suitors, (they are) exerting an outrageous insolence. Therefore, I have come now (to grasp) your knees, (to see) if perhaps you may be willing to tell (me) of his woeful death, whether perhaps you have seen (it) with your own eyes, or heard the story of (him on) his wanderings from someone else. For his mother (i.e. Anticlea) bore him into (a world of) excessive sorrow. And do not soften your words in any way out of concern for me or pity, but tell me clearly how you caught sight (of him). I beseech (you), if ever my father, the noble Odysseus, promised you anything, by word or some deed, and (then) accomplished (it) in the land of the Trojans, where you Achaeans suffered such woes, be mindful of these (things) now, I (pray you), and tell me the full truth."

Deeply indignant (at hearing this), auburn-haired Menelaus expressed this view to him: "Fie on them, for certainly those who are feeble themselves have (always) wished to lie in the bed of a most stout-hearted man. But just like, when in the thicket of a mighty lion a deer-hind has laid to rest her newborn suckling fawns and is examining the mountain slopes and grassy hollows for pasture, and the (lion) has entered his lair and will let loose a cruel fate upon all of them, so will Odysseus let loose a cruel fate upon them. For, (O) father Zeus, Athene, and Apollo, would that he were as strong as he once was in well-built Lesbos, when he got up and wrestled in a match with Philomelides, and he flung (him) down with a mighty (throw), and all the Achaeans rejoiced, and (would) with such strength he should come into the company of the suitors; then they should all meet with an early death and a bitter kind of marriage. But (with regard to) those (things) which you ask and beseech of me, I will not turn aside and speak of other (things) instead, nor will I deceive you, but of the (things which) the unerring old man of the sea (i.e. Proteus) told me, I shall not hide or conceal one word of them from you.   

Ll. 351-397. Menelaus speaks of his delay at Pharos. 

"While I was anxious to arrive here in Egypt, the gods held me back, since I had not sacrificed perfect hecatombs to them. For the gods ever wish (us) to be mindful of their commands. Now, there is a certain island in the swelling sea before Egypt, and (men) call it Pharos, and it is as distant as a hollow ship can sail in a whole day, when a shrill fair wind blows from behind (her); and in (it there is) a harbour with good anchorage, from which (men) can launch their well-balanced ships into the sea, having drawn their supplies of dark water. There the gods kept me for twenty days, nor did those winds ever spring up which blow over the deep sea and speed ships' crews over the broad back of the sea. And now would all my provisions and the strength of my men have been spent, if one of the gods had not taken pity on me and rescued me, Eidothea, (that is), the daughter of Proteus, the old man of the sea; for I had especially stirred her heart. She met me as I wandered alone apart from my comrades; for they were forever roaming around the island, fishing with bent hooks, and hunger gnawed at their bellies. And she stood close by (me), and spoke the following words: 'Are you, O stranger, an utter fool and completely stupid, or are you remiss of your own free will, and do you take pleasure (in) suffering hardships? So you are being kept on this island for a long time, and you cannot find any means of deliverance, and the heart of your comrades is growing weaker.'

"So she spoke, and I (i.e. Menelaus) said to her in reply: 'I shall speak out and tell (you), whoever you are among the goddesses, that I am in no way detained (here) of my own free will, but I must now have offended the immortals, who inhabit the broad heavens. But, despite (that), do you tell me -  for the gods know everything - which one of the immortals confines me (here) and has put a stop to my journey, and, (with regard to) my return home, how I may traverse the teeming deep.'

"So I spoke, and that most divine of goddesses replied at once: 'Well then, stranger, I will tell you (everything) quite truthfully. Someone comes here (regularly), (and that is) the unerring old man of the sea, the immortal Proteus of Egypt, who knows the depths of every sea (and is) the servant of Poseidon; and they say that he is my father and that he brought (me) into the world. If you could possibly catch him by ambush, he will tell you the way and the measure of your journey, and, (with regard to) your return home, how you may traverse the teeming deep. And, if you would wish (to hear it), he will also tell you, cherished by Zeus (as you are), what good and bad has been done in your halls, while you have been gone on your long and difficult journey.'  

"So she spoke, and I answered her and said: 'Do you now contrive an ambush of the divine old man, lest perhaps he should see me beforehand, and, being aware of (me), avoid (me); for it is hard for a god to be overpowered by a mortal man.' 

Ll. 398-434. Eidothea sets out her plan to capture her father Proteus. 

"So I spoke, and the most divine of goddesses replied at once: 'Well then, stranger, I will tell you (everything) quite truthfully. As soon as the sun has reached the middle of the heavens, then will the unerring old man of the sea come forth from the brine, hidden (as he is) by the dark ripple stirred by the West Wind, and, when he has come out, he falls asleep in the hollow caves; and around him, the seals, the children of the fair daughter of the sea, fall asleep in droves, as they emerge from the grey surf breathing forth the pungent odour of the sea at its deepest. There I will lead you at the break of dawn, and I will lay you down one by one amidst their ranks; for now you must pick out carefully three of your companions, who (are) the best that you have on board your well-benched ships. And I will tell you all the sorcerer's arts of that old man. Now, let me tell you, he will first count up the seals and do his rounds; then, when he has counted (them) all on his fingers and looked at (them), he will lie down in their midst like a shepherd amidst his flocks of sheep. Now, when you first see him falling asleep, then you must summon up your strength and courage, and hold (him) there, even though he struggles in his great eagerness to escape. And he will try (to escape from you by) turning into every (kind of) beast that exists on the earth, and water, and raging fire; then, you must hold (him) fast and grip (him) all the more. But then, when he himself questions you with words, and he is in the same shape as (he was) when you saw (him) falling asleep, then, hero (that you are), stay your might and set the old man free, and ask him which one of the gods is harassing you, and, (with regard to) your return home, how you may traverse the teeming deep.' 

"Thus speaking, she (i.e. Eidothea) plunged beneath the swell of the sea. But I (i.e. Menelaus) went to my ships, (to the place) where they stood on the sand; and my heart was much troubled as I went. But, when I had come down to the ships and the sea, and we had made our supper, and immortal night had come over (us), then we fell asleep on the edge of the sea. As soon as the child of the morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, then I went along the shore of the sea with its broad ways, earnestly entreating the gods; and (with me) I brought three comrades, whom I trusted the most in every undertaking. 

Ll. 435-480. Menelaus and Eidothea trap Proteus. 

"Meanwhile, she had plunged beneath the broad bosom of the sea, and had brought up from the deep the skins of four seals; and all (of them) were newly flayed; and she had devised a plan (to deal) with her father. She had scooped out some shallow holes (for us) in the sand of the sea, and sat (there) waiting. And we came very close to her; and she laid (us) in a row and cast a skin over each (of us). Then would our ambush have proved most horrible; for the deadly stench of those sea-bred seals distressed (us) dreadfully; but she herself saved (us) and devised (something) very advantageous. She brought and placed under the nose of each (man) a very sweet smelling ambrosia (plant), and this overcame the stench of the beast. Then all morning we waited with a patient spirit; and the seals came out of the sea in droves. These then laid themselves down in rows along the shore of the sea; and at midday the old man came forth from the sea and found the well-fed seals, and he went towards (them) all and counted their number; among these creatures he counted us first, nor did he foresee in his heart that there was any trick; then he lay down himself as well. Then, we rushed (at him) with a shout, and flung our arms around (him); but the old man did not forget his cunning arts, but indeed he firstly became a well-bearded lion, and then a serpent, and a panther, and a huge boar; then he turned into flowing water, and a high leafy tree; but we held on unflinchingly with a steadfast spirit. But when at last the old man, well versed (as he was) in these pernicious arts. grew weary, then he questioned me and said the following words: 'Now, which one of the gods, son of Atreus, helped you to devise this plan to lie in wait for (me) and take me against my will? and why do you need (to do) it?'      

"So he spoke, and in reply I said to him: 'You know, old man - why are you seeking to mislead me by asking these (questions)? - how long I have been kept on this island, nor can I find any sign of deliverance, and my heart grows faint within (me). But, despite (that), do you tell me, for the gods know everything, which one of the immortals confines me  (here), and has put a stop to my journey, and, (with regard to) my return home, how I may traverse the teeming deep.' 

"So I spoke, and he spoke to me at once in reply: 'But of course you ought to have made fair sacrifices to Zeus and the other gods before you embarked, so that you might have come to your native-land as speedily as possible when sailing over the wine-dark sea. For it is not your fate to see your friends and to reach your well-built home and your native land, before you have come once more to the waters of Egypt, the rain-fed river (that is) (i.e. the Nile), and you have offered holy hecatombs to the immortal gods, who inhabit the broad heavens; and then the gods will grant you the journey you (so) earnestly desire.' 

Ll. 481-511.  Proteus speaks of the fate of Ajax the Lesser.

"So he spoke, and my spirit was broken within me, because he bade me go again over the misty deep to Egypt, (which was) a long and painful journey. But, even so, I spoke these words in reply: 'So I will do this, old man, just as you command. But come (now), tell me this, and tell (it to me) truly, did all the Achaeans return with their ships unscathed, (that is all those) whom Nestor and I left as we went from Troy, or did any (of them) perish by a cruel death on board his ship, or in the arms of his friends, since he had finished with war?' 

"So I spoke, and he spoke to me at once in reply: 'Son of Atreus, why do you question me about these (matters)? You have no need at all to know or to learn (what is in) my mind; nor do I think that you will be long without tears, when you hear everything clearly. For many (of them) were slain, and many survived. But only two chieftains of the bronze-coated Achaeans perished on their return journey; as for the fighting, you were even there (yourself). And one (is) still alive, I think, (and) is detained on the broad deep.  

" 'Now Ajax (i.e. the Locrian Ajax, or Ajax the Lesser, the son of Oïleus) was lost amid his long-oared ships. Firstly, Poseidon drove him on to the great rocks of Gyrae (i.e. a rocky island in the Aegean, off the south-east promontory of Euboea) and kept him safe from the sea; and now would he have escaped his fate, despite being hated by Athene (viz. he was under Athene's curse, because during the sack of Troy he had assaulted Cassandra in Athene's shrine), if he had not cast forth arrogant words and gone (so) greatly astray in his mind; for he said he had escaped the great depths of the sea against the will of the gods. And Poseidon heard his boastful speech; immediately then, he took his trident in his sturdy hands and smote the rock of Gyrae and split it asunder. Now one part stayed in its place, but the part (which had been) sundered fell into the sea, (and that was the part) on which Ajax had first sat down when he went (so) greatly astray in his mind; and it bore him down into the boundless surging sea. So there he died, when he had drunk the salty water. 

Ll. 512-553. Proteus speaks of the fate of Agamemnon. 

But somehow your brother (i.e. Agamemnon) escaped the fates and evaded (them) in his hollow ships; and queenly Hera rescued (him from the storm). But, when he was just about to reach the steep heights of (Cape) Malea (i.e. the promontory on the south-eastern tip of the Peloponnese), then the storm-wind caught him and bore (him), groaning heavily, over the teeming deep to the borders of the land where Thyestes (i.e. the younger brother of Agamemnon's father Atreus) had formerly dwelt in a house, but now Thyestes' son, Aegisthus, dwelt (there). But, when from there too a safe return home was shown (him), then the gods changed the course of the wind back again, and they came home; and then indeed did he set foot on his native-land rejoicing, and he clung to his native-land and kept on kissing it; and many (were) the hot tears (that) streamed from his (eyes), since (he was so) glad to see his country. Now a watchman saw him from his lookout-post, (a man) whom the wily Aegisthus had taken and placed there, and he had promised (him) two talents of gold (as) a wage; and he had been on guard for a year, lest he should pass him by unnoticed, and be mindful of his strength in a fight (i.e. Agamemnon might launch an attack of his own). So he (i.e. the watchman) made his way to the palace, bearing the news to the shepherd of the people (i.e. Aegisthus). Choosing the best twenty men from the town, he set an ambush, and ordered a feast to be prepared on the other side (of the palace). Then, he set out with horses and carriage to summon Agamemnon, the shepherd of the host, (to the feast), (while) contemplating the ghastly (deed in his mind). So he escorted him (from the shore to the palace), (quite) unaware of his doom, and slew (him) while he was at dinner, just as one would slay an ox at its stall. And not one of the comrades of the son of Atreus, who followed him, survived, nor any of Aegisthus' (men), but they were (all) killed in the palace.'

"So he spoke, and my heart was broken within me, and I wept as I sat on the sands of the shore, nor did my heart now wish that I should live any longer and behold the light of the sun. But, when I had had my fill of weeping and writhing around, then the unerring old man of the sea said to me: 'Son of Atreus, do not cry any more, and so much and so stubbornly, since we shall achieve nothing (by doing so); but strive that you may come to your native-land as quickly as possible. For you will either find him (i.e. Aegisthus) alive, or Orestes may have got there before (you) and killed (him), and you may come upon his funeral rites.'  

"So he spoke, and my heart and my manly spirit were again warmed in my breast, despite my grieving, and I spoke and addressed him with these winged words: 'Now I know of these men (i.e. Ajax the Lesser and Agamemnon); but do you name the third (man) (i.e. Odysseus), he who (is) still alive and detained on the broad sea, or is dead; and (of him) I do wish to hear, despite the grief (it may cause me).' 

Ll. 554-592. Proteus speaks of the fate of Odysseus.

"So I spoke, and at once he spoke to me in reply: '(It is) the son of Laertes, who dwells in his home on Ithaca; and I saw him on an island (i.e. Ogygia), shedding big tears in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who keeps him (there) by force; and he cannot come to his native-land; for he (has) at hand no ships with oars and (no) comrades, who may send him (on his way) over the broad back of the sea. But, in your case, O Menelaus, cherished by Zeus, it is not ordained that you should die and meet your fate in horse-grazing Argos, but the immortals will send you to the Elysian Fields and the ends of the earth, where (dwells) auburn-haired Rhadamanthus (i.e. son of Zeus and Europa, and brother of Minos, and as a judge of the dead he rules the Elysian Fields) and where life is easiest for men. No snow (is there), no heavy storm, nor ever any rain, but ever does the Ocean send up blasts of the shrill-blowing West Wind to cool mankind; for you have Helen (as your wife), and in their (i.e. the immortals') eyes you are the son-in-law of Zeus.' 

"So saying, he sank down beneath the surging sea. But I went to my ships together with my godlike comrades, and my heart was much troubled as I went. But when I had gone down to my ship and the sea, and we had made our supper, immortal night came on, and so then we lay down to rest on the shore of the sea. As soon as Dawn appeared, early-born and rosy-fingered, we first of all drew down our ships to the shining sea, and we put the masts and sails on our well-balanced ships, and the crewmen too went aboard and sat down upon the benches; and sitting in rows they smote the grey sea with their oars. Then back again (I sailed) to the heaven-fed river of Epypt (i.e. the Nile), and moored my ships and offered complete hecatombs (i.e. sacrificial offerings of a hundred oxen). But, when I had stayed the wrath of the gods that are forever, I raised a mound to Agamemnon, that his fame might be inextinguishable. When I had accomplished these (things), I went on my way, and the immortals gave me a fair wind, and sent me swiftly, let me tell you, to my own native-land. But come now, abide in my halls, until the eleventh or twelfth (day) has come; then will I send you forth in splendour, and give you glorious gifts, three horses and a well-polished chariot; but then I shall give you a beautiful cup, so that you can make drink-offerings to the immortal gods and remember me all your days."

Ll. 593-624. Telemachus prepares to leave Sparta.

Then, wise Telemachus addressed him (i.e. Menelaus) in reply: "Son of Atreus, keep me here no longer. For I could (well) allow myself to sit in your (palace) for a year, nor would a longing for my home or my relatives (i.e. Penelope and Laertes) come upon me; for I do (so) enjoy listening in wonder to your stories and your speech. But my comrades are already showing their distress in sacred Pylos; and you are keeping me here for a long time. Now let the gift which you may be giving me be something I can treasure; but horses I will not take to Ithaca, but I shall leave (them) here for you (as) an adornment (to your stables); for you are lord of a wide plain, in which you see lotus in abundance, and galingale, and wheat, and spelt, and broad-eared white barley. But in Ithaca (there are) no wide courses or any meadows at all; (it is) browsed by goats, and it is more pleasant than (a land) fed on by horses. For not one of the islands that are inclined towards the sea is fit for driving horses or (is) rich in meadows, and Ithaca least of all." 

So he spoke, and Menelaus, good at the war-cry, smiled and patted him with his right-hand, and he spoke these words and addressed (him) by name: "So I will change these (gifts of mine) to you; for (so) I can. Of (all) the gifts which lie (as) treasures in my house, I will give (you the one) which is the fairest and the most esteemed; I will give you a well-wrought mixing-bowl; and all (of it) is silver, but its rims are made of gold, the work of Hephaestus. The gallant Phaedimus. king of the Sidonians (i.e. the inhabitants of Sidon, a coastal city in Phoenicia), gave it (to me), when his palace sheltered me as I made my way here; (now) I want to bestow it on you."

Thus, they said (these things) to each other, and guests began to come to the palace of the divine king. And they drove sheep and brought beneficial wine; and their wives, with their beautiful hair-bands, sent them bread. Thus, they busied themselves with the feast in the halls. 

Ll. 625-674. The Suitors plan an ambush for Telemachus. 

But in the front of Odysseus' palace the suitors were amusing themselves, throwing quoits and javelins on a levelled surface, and showing their insolence as before. And the leaders of the suitors, Antinous and godlike Eurymachus, were sitting (there), and they were far and away the best (of them) in valour.  Noemon, the son of Phronius, came near to them, and, questioning Antinous, he spoke these words: "Antinous, do we know at all in our hearts, or do we not, when Telemachus will return from sandy Pylos? He has gone, taking my ship; now, I have need of it to go across to spacious Elis, where I (have) twelve mares and sturdy mules at the teat (and still) untamed; I should like to drive one (of them) and break (it) in."

So he spoke, and they were astounded in their hearts (to hear this); for they did not think that he had gone to Neleian Pylos (i.e. the city founded by Nestor's father, Neleus), but that (he was) somewhere there on the farm, either present among his sheep or with the swineherd. 

Then did Antinous. the son of Eupithes, address him: "Tell me the truth; when did he go and which young men went with him? (Were they) chosen (youths) of Ithaca, or were they bondsmen and servants of his own? He could have set sail (with them). Tell me this truly, so that I may know full well, whether he took the black ship from you by force against your will, or whether you gave it to him willingly, when he besought (you)." 

Then, Noeman, son of Phronius, answered him: "I, myself, willingly gave (it) to him; what else could any man do, when such a man, his heart laden with cares, should (so) entreat (him)? It would be hard to refuse the gift. The young men, who (are) the noblest in the land after us, followed him. And among (them) I noticed Mentor, or a god who was like him in all respects, going on board (as) their leader. But at this I marvel: I saw godlike Mentor here yesterday at dawn, and at that time he embarked on a ship for Pylos. 

Speaking thus, he went off to his father's house, but the proud hearts of them both (i.e. Antinous and Eurymachus) were angered. Then, the suitors sat down together and ceased their contests. And among them Antinous, son of Eupithes, spoke in anger; and his black heart was completely filled with fury, and his eyes were like blazing fire; "Fie upon him, a great deed has been arrogantly accomplished by Telemachus, this journey (of his, that is); we thought it would never come to pass. Away this young lad has gone, against the will of so many of us, having launched a ship, as you see, and having picked the best (men) in the land (as his crew). And by and by he will be our first bane; but may Zeus destroy his bodily strength before he reaches the full measure of youth. But come, give me a swift ship and a crew of twenty (men), so that I shall keep watch on the strait between Ithaca and rocky Samos (i.e. sometimes known as Same, and later called Cephallenia) and lie in wait for him as he makes his way, so that his voyage in search of his father may (end) sadly."

So he spoke, and they all approved (his words), and bade (him act on them). Then, they arose straightway and went to the house of Odysseus. 

Ll. 675-714. Medon tells Penelope of the plot. 

Now. Penelope was not unaware for long of the plans which the suitors were plotting deep in their hearts; for the herald Medon told her, (as) he had heard their plans, when he was in the courtyard outside, and they were weaving their plot inside. And he made his way through the palace to give the news (of this) to Penelope; and, as he stepped across the threshold (of her room), Penelope addressed him: "And why pray, herald, have our illustrious suitors sent you sent you forth? Was it to tell the handmaids of divine Odysseus to cease their tasks and to prepare a feast for them? Not wooing (any more), nor consorting together elsewhere, may this their latest feast be their last (one); (yes, this applies to those of you) who are always gathering (here), consuming much of the livelihood of wise Telemachus. (Surely) you have not heard anything from your fathers, long ago when you were children, of what kind (of a man) Odysseus was among those who begat you, (in that) he neither did nor said anything unfitting to anyone in the land, as is the custom with godlike kings: one man he may hate, another he may love. But that (man) never did anything at all wicked to (any) man. But that mind of yours and your unseemly deeds are plain (for all) to see, nor is there any gratitude (shown) afterwards for any good deeds (done)." 

Then, Medon, discreet in his thoughts, addressed her once more: "For if only this were the greatest evil, (O) queen. But another much greater and more grievous (one) are the suitors planning, which (I pray) the son of Cronos may never bring about; they are planning to slay Telemachus with the sharp sword when he comes home; for he went to sacred Pylos and noble Lacedaemon in search of news of his father."

So he spoke, and her knees were  loosened and her heart (melted) there (where she sat), and for a long while speechlessness took hold of her; and her eyes filled with tears and her active voice (i.e. the flow of her voice) was checked. But then at last she said these words to him in reply: "Why pray, herald, has my son gone away? For there was no need for him to go aboard any swift-sailing ships which serve men (as) horses of the sea, and cross over its deep waters. So is not even his name to be left among men?" 

Then, Medon, discreet in his thoughts, answered her: "I do not know whether some god aroused him, or whether his heart was moved to go to Pylos, so that he might learn either of his father's return, or of any fate that he might have incurred."

Ll. 715-757. Penelope and Eurycleia. 

So he spoke, and went his way through the house of Odysseus. And (a cloud of) heart-breaking grief fell around her, and she could not endure to sit on a chair any longer, although there were many (of them) in the house, but she sat down on the threshold of her well-wrought chamber, weeping piteously; and her handmaids wailed around (her), all of them that were in the house (viz. in Book XXII we learn that there were fifty of them), (both) young and old. And, groaning loudly, Penelope addressed them: "Hear (me), my friends; for the Olympian (i.e. Zeus) has given me sorrows beyond all of the (women) who were born and bred together with me; long ago I lost my noble lion-hearted husband, pre-eminent among the Danaans in every kind of virtue, my noble (husband), whose fame (resounds) widely throughout Hellas (i.e. the mainland of Greece) and the heart of Argos (i.e. south of the Isthmus of Corinth). And now the storm-winds have swept up my well-beloved son from these halls unnoticed, nor did I hear that he was gone. (O you) hard-hearted (ones), not even you took thought, anyone of you, to rouse me from my bed, (though) in your hearts you knew full well when he went on board his hollow black ship. For, if I had learned that he was contemplating this journey, he would most certainly have remained (here) in this place, despite his eagerness for the trip, or he should have left me dead in these halls. But (now) let someone hurriedly call old Dolius, my servant, whom my father still gave me even when I came here, and (who) keeps my garden with its many trees, so that he may quickly sit beside Laertes, and tell (him) all these (things), (to see) if he can possibly weave some plan in his heart to go to the people and lament that they are minded to wipe out his race and that of the godlike Odysseus. 

Then, their old nurse Eurycleia addressed her: "Dear lady, you may slay me with the pitiless sword, or let (me) live on (here) in the palace; but I will not hide the facts from you. I had known all these (things), and I gave him whatever he asked for (in terms of) food and sweet wine; but he extracted a mighty oath from me, not to tell you, until the twelfth day at least had come, or you yourself had missed (him) and had heard that he had set off, (and this was) so that you might not mar your fair flesh (with) weeping. But bathe yourself and take clean garments for your body, and go up into your upper chamber with your waiting women, and pray to Athene, the daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis. For she may then save him even from death. (But) do not trouble a troubled old man; for I do not think that the offspring of the son of Arcesius (i.e. Laertes) are utterly hated by the blessed gods, but there will still be one, I believe, who can keep hold of the high-roofed halls and the rich farmlands beyond (them)."  

Ll. 758-794. The Suitors set their trap. 

So she spoke; and she hushed her sobbing, and cleared her eyes of their tears. And then, when she had bathed, and put clean clothes on her body, she went up to he upper chamber with her waiting women, and placed sacrificial barley grains in a basket, and offered prayers to Athene: "Hear me, Atrytone (i.e. an epithet of Athene, possibly meaning 'the unwearied'), child of Zeus, who bears the aegis; if ever wise Odysseus burnt the thighs of a heifer or a sheep, remember these offerings for me now and save my dear son and ward off those wickedly overbearing suitors." As she spoke, she cried out aloud, and the goddess heard her prayer. But in the darkened hall the suitors caused a great commotion; and one of those overbearing young men called out thus: "Now indeed our much courted queen is preparing a wedding feast for us, and she does know at all that the death of her son has been arranged. " 

So he spoke, but they did not know what things had (really) been arranged. Then, Antinous joined in the debate and addressed them: "(You) madmen, you must all avoid these boastful words, lest perhaps someone will make it known and (do so) inside (the palace). But come (now), let us arise in silence, and carry out this plan, which is also fixed in all of our minds." 

So he spoke, and he picked out the twenty best men, and they went their way to their quick ship and the shore of the sea. And so first of all they ran the ship into the sea's deep water, and brought the mast and the sails on (board) their black vessel, and fixed the oars in their leather thongs, all in the proper fashion; and they spread out the white sails; meanwhile, their high-spirited attendants had brought down their armour. Then, they moored her well out in the sea, and came ashore themselves. And there they had their supper and waited for evening to come upon (them). 

But wise Penelope lay there in her upper room fasting, not tasting food or drink, wondering whether her blameless son would escape death, or be killed by the arrogant suitors. And she pondered fearfully, just as a lion (does) amid a crowd of beaters when they draw the stealthy circle round him, and so sound sleep came upon her while she was revolving these (thoughts); then she sank back and fell asleep, and all her limbs lay still. 

Ll. 795-847. Athene sends a phantom to Penelope. 

Then again, the bright-eyed goddess Athene had another idea; she created a phantom, and in stature it was like a woman, (that is) Iphthime, daughter of great-hearted Icarius (i.e. she was Penelope's sister), whom Eumelus married when he lived in a house at Pherae (i.e. a town in Thessaly in Northern Greece). And she sent it to the palace of godlike Odysseus, so that it might stop the grieving and lamenting Penelope from her weeping. It entered her bedroom by (working) the thong of the bolt, and stood by her head and addressed these words to her: "Are you asleep, Penelope, your heart grieving with sorrow? (There is) no (need to weep), (for) the gods, who live at ease, do not mean you to weep and grieve, for your son is still returning home safely; for, in the eyes of the gods, he has done no wrong at all." 

Then, wise Penelope, drowsing very sweetly at the gate of dreams, replied to her: "What pray brings you here, sister? Until now you have not come here, since you dwell in a house very far (from here). You tell me to bring an end to my grief and to my many sorrows, which torment me in my heart and soul, I who have previously lost my noble lion-hearted husband, who surpassed (all) among the Danaans in every kind of virtue, that noble (man), whose fame (resounds) widely across Hellas and the heart of Argos; and now my beloved son has sailed away in a hollow ship, (still) a (mere) child, untrained in action or debate - and I grieve even more for him than for his (father), and I tremble for him and fear lest anything should befall (him). either in the land of those (men), where he has gone, or on the sea - for many enemies are plotting against him, yearning to kill (him) before he reaches his native-land." 

Then, the shadowy phantom said to her in reply: "Take courage, and do not be so sore afraid of anything in your mind; for an escort travels with him, such as any other men would pray to have standing at their side - for she has power, Pallas Athene (that is)! And she pities you in your grief; (and) now she has sent me to give you this message."  

Then again wise Penelope answered her: "If you really are a god, and have heard the voice of a god, then come tell me also of that hapless (one) (i.e. Odysseus), whether he still lives perhaps and beholds the light of the sun, or whether he is already dead and in the house of Hades." 

Then, the shadowy phantom answered her and said: "Nay, I shall not speak of him to you in any detail, (whether) he is alive or dead; for (it is) wrong to speak windy (words)."

So she spoke, and she slipped through the bolt of the door-post and into the breath of the winds. Then, the daughter of Icarius (i.e. Penelope), rose from her sleep; and her heart was warmed within her, that (so) clear a dream had come upon her at the dead of night. 

But the suitors had embarked and were sailing over the watery ways, contemplating in their minds the sheer murder of Telemachus. There is a certain rocky island in the midst of the sea between Ithaca and rugged Samos, (namely) Asteria, of no great size; and in it a harbour with two entrances afforded a safe anchorage; here the Achaeans (i.e. the suitors) waited, preparing an ambush for him.