HOMER: "ODYSSEY": BOOK XIX: EURYCLEIA RECOGNISES ODYSSEUS

HOMER: "ODYSSEY": BOOK XIX: EURYCLEIA RECOGNISES ODYSSEUS 

Introduction:

This book sees the completion of the Odyssey's 38th day of action. When the planned meeting between Penelope and Odysseus, disguised as a beggar, takes place, the beggar persuades Penelope that he has heard of Odysseus, and she orders her elderly serving-woman and Odysseus' former nurse, Eurycleia, to wash him. It is then that Eurycleia recognises Odysseus from an ancient scar that he has above his knee, and a description then follows as to how he acquired the wound as a boy when hunting on Mount Parnassus. Odysseus, however, then swears Eurycleia to secrecy, where his mother is concerned. Penelope then tells the disguised Odysseus about a strange dream she has, in which her domestic geese are killed by an eagle. While Odysseus interprets the dream favourably, Penelope is not convinced. Still unaware of the beggar's true identity, Penelope announces that on the next day she will set up a contest for the suitors, by which whoever can shoot an arrow through the twelve axes will win her hand in marriage. She then goes to bed sadly.  

Ll. 1-46. Odysseus and Telemachus hide the weapons. 

Then, the godlike Odysseus was left behind in the hall, contemplating with Athene the slaying of the suitors; and at once he spoke these winged words to Telemachus: "Telemachus, we must hide away absolutely all of our martial weapons (i.e. the spoils of war hanging on the walls as trophies); but you must beguile the suitors with placatory words (such as these), when they miss (them) and question you: 'I have removed (them) from the smoke, since they are no longer like the ones that Odysseus left behind, when he went to Troy, but they have been damaged as the draught from the fire has reached (them). And, furthermore, this greater (fear) has a god put in my heart, that, under the influence of drink, you might pick a quarrel among yourselves and wound one another, and thus bring shame upon the feast and your wooing; for iron of itself lures a man on.' "

So he spoke, and Telemachus was persuaded by his father, and called forth nurse Eurycleia and said to (her): "Good mother, I want you to keep the women in their quarters, until I can stow away my father's fine weapons in the store-room; these (things now lie) around my house neglected in my father's absence; and I was still a child (when he left). But now I wish to stow them away, so that the draught from the fire cannot reach (them)."

Then, his dear (old) nurse Eurycleia answered him: "Now, if only you would one day take the trouble to look after your house and protect all your possessions. But come, (tell me) who is to go along with you and carry the light? For you would not let the maids go, even though they were ready (to do so)."

Then, wise Telemachus said to her in reply: "The stranger (will do) this; for whoever lays hold of my rations, I shall not keep idle, even though he has come from afar." 

So he spoke, and she did not say a word (in reply), but she locked the doors of the stately hall. Then the two of them sprang up, Odysseus and his glorious son, and began to bear helmets, and bossed shields, and sharp-pointed spears; and before (them) Pallas Athene, carrying a golden lamp, made a most beautiful light. Then, Telemachus suddenly spoke to his father: "O Father, this (is) surely a great marvel (that) I am beholding with my eyes. After all, the walls of the hall, and the lovely pedestals, and pine-wood beams, and the pillars (that are) held aloft (all) shine forth in my eyes as if (in the light of) a blazing fire. For sure, one of the gods who inhabit Olympus (must be) there."

Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, answered him and said: "Be quiet, and check your thoughts, and ask no questions; this, let me tell you, is the way of the gods, who live on Olympus. But do you go and take your rest, and I shall remain here, so that I may arouse the maids and your mother still more; and she, in her distress, will ask me about everything." 

Ll. 47-88. Melantho abuses Odysseus once more, but he responds firmly.

So he spoke, and Telemachus went along through the hall by the light of shining torches to his chamber to lie down, (the place) where he had previously gone to rest, whenever sweet sleep came upon him; now there he also lay down, and awaited divine Dawn. Yet, the godlike Odysseus was left in the hall, plotting the slaying of the suitors with (the help of) Athene.  

Then, the wise Penelope came forth from her bed-chamber, looking like Artemis or golden Aphrodite. And for her they put down by the fire, where she was accustomed to sit, a couch inlaid with ivory and silver; the craftsman Icmalius once made it, and beneath (it) he had placed a footstool for the feet, (that was) growing out from it, on which a large fleece was laid. There wise Penelope then took her seat. And white-armed handmaids came from the (women's) hall. And they began to take away the abundant food, and the tables and the cups from which those arrogant men were drinking; and they cast the embers from the braziers on to the floor, and piled fresh logs upon them in abundance, so there was light and warmth. 

Then, Melantho abused Odysseus again for a second time: "Are you still here now plaguing (us all) through the night, prowling round the house and ogling the women? But get you to the door, you wretched man, and be thankful for your feast; or you will shortly be pelted out of the house with a firebrand." 

Then, quick-witted Odysseus looked at her with a scowl and gave (her) this answer: "Good woman, why do you set upon me in this way with an angry heart? Is it because I am dirty and wear ragged raiment, and go around the country begging? For necessity drives (me) on. Beggars and vagrants are such men. For I too once lived in a house among men, a rich (man) in a wealthy (house), and I often used to give to a vagrant such as myself, whoever he might be and with whatever needs he might come; and I had slaves past counting, and many other (things) on account of which (men) live well and are reputed (to be) wealthy. But Zeus, son of Cronos, ruined my life; for he surely willed (it). So (beware) now, lest you should ever utterly lose all of that splendid position, in which you now excel among the handmaids; (and take care) lest your mistress should perhaps turn against (you) in her anger, or Odysseus should return; for (there is) still the chance of hope (being fulfilled). But if, as (you think), he is dead, and is no longer going to return, yet now, by the grace of Apollo, (he has) a son like him, (namely) Telemachus; and it does not escape his notice, if anyone of the women in the palace behave badly, since he is no longer of childish age.    

Ll. 89-147. Penelope and Odysseus converse. 

So she spoke, and wise Penelope heard him, and she rebuked the handmaid, and spoke these words as she addressed (her): "By no means, you presumptuous (woman), you shameless bitch, does your behaviour escape my notice in any way, an outrageous deed (it was), which you shall wipe from your own head (like a stain): for full well did you know that I was intending to question the stranger in my own halls about my husband, since I am exceedingly distressed."

So then, she also spoke to the housekeeper Eurynome and said these words to (her): "Now bring a chair (here), Eurynome, and a fleece (to go) on it, so that the stranger may sit down and tell his story and listen to me; for I wish to ask him questions." 

So she spoke, and she most speedily brought a well-polished chair and set (it) down, and on it she cast a fleece; then, the long-suffering godlike Odysseus sat down there. Then, wise Penelope began their conversation: "Stranger, this (question) I myself will ask you first: who are you (and) from where (do you come)? Where (is) your city and (who are) your parents?" 

Then, the ever-ready Odysseus said to her in reply: "My lady, (there is) not one man on this boundless earth (who) could ever find fault with you; for your fame reaches the broad heaven, like that of some blameless king, who is the god-fearing lord over many men, and he upholds justice, and the dark soil bears wheat and barley, and the trees are laden with fruit, and the flocks continually bring forth (young), and the sea yields fish through his good governance, and the people prosper under him. So, now (that I am) in your house, ask me any other questions, but do not inquire about my ancestry and my native-land, lest you fill my heart with pain the more I recall (the past), and I become very sorrowful; nor is it at all fitting that I should sit weeping and wailing in another's house, since endless lamentation (is) always rather tiresome; (I fear) that one of the housemaids, or even you yourself, might be displeased with me and say that I am full of tears because my mind is inundated with wine."

Then, wise Penelope answered him: "To be sure, stranger, the immortals destroyed my goodness, both in face and form, (on that day) when the Argives went off to Ilium, and my husband Odysseus went with them. If he were but to come and take charge of my life, so would my fame be greater and fairer. But now I am in mourning; for so many woes has some god brought down on me.  For all the chieftains who hold sway over the islands, Dulichium, and Same, and wooded Zacynthus, and those who dwell around far-seen Ithaca itself, they woo me against my will and lay waste my house. As a result, I do not take care of my guests or of my suppliants, or even of the heralds who are (here) on public business. But in my longing for Odysseus I eat my heart out. So they promote my marriage; and I contrive tricks (to deceive them). First, some god infused my mind with (the idea of) erecting a great loom in my halls, in order to weave a large and delicate robe; and at once I said to them: '(You) young men, my suitors, although godlike Odysseus is dead, eager (though you are) for that marriage of mine, be patient until I have completed this robe  - let not my threads be vainly wasted - (for it is) a shroud for lord Laertes, when the fell fate of remorseless death shall take him down. I fear lest any one of the Achaean (women) across this land should blame me, if he who has amassed so much wealth should be laid to rest without a shroud.' 

Ll. 148-189. Odysseus spins a yarn. 

"So I spoke, and their proud hearts consented. Then by day I would weave my great web, and at night I would unravel (it), when I set torches beside (it). Thus, for three years I kept the Achaeans from knowing and I misled (them); but, when the fourth year came and the seasons slipped by, and the months waned, and many days had completely run their course, then, through (the connivance of) my housemaids, shameless and irresponsible (as they are), they came upon (me) and caught (me at it), and they reproached me with words (of anger). So, I completed it perforce, and against my will; and now I can neither escape marriage, nor yet find any other counsel; now my parents are very much encouraging (me) to get married, and my son is aggrieved because he is aware that our estate is being drained; for now (he is) the sort of man who can especially take charge of a house, to which Zeus attaches honour. But even so, do tell me of the stock from which you are (sprung). For you are not (sprung) from the proverbial oak-tree or rock."  

Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, answered her and said: "O honoured wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes, will you never stop inquiring about my ancestry? But I will tell you of (it); yet, in truth, you will be giving me more pains than (the ones) I have; for such is the case, whenever a man has been so far from his native-land as long as I (have) now, wandering through the many cities of men, while suffering sore distress; but even so I will tell (you) what (it is) you ask and inquire of me. In the midst of the wine-dark sea there lies a land (called) Crete, lovely and rich (it is) and surrounded by water; and on (it) there are many men, boundless in number, and ninety cities. And one tongue (is) mixed with others; and on (it there dwell) the Achaeans, and the great-hearted native Cretans, and the Cydonians, and the Dorians in their three tribes, and the noble Pelasgians. And (located) among them (is) Cnossus, a mighty city, and Minos was king there, (and) every nine years (he had) mighty Zeus (as) a companion, and he was the father of my father, the high-minded Deucalion, and Deucalion fathered myself and lord Idomeneus. But he had gone to Ilium in his beaked ships as an equal with the sons of Atreus (i.e. Agamemnon and Menelaus), and I, with the good name of Aethon, (was) younger by birth; but he was the older and the better (man). There I saw Odysseus and gave (him gifts of) friendship. For the force of the wind had driven him to Crete, having blown (him) off course at (Cape) Maleia (i.e. the south-eastern tip of the Peloponnese), when bound for Troy. So he put in his ships at a difficult harbour in Amnisus (i.e. the harbour of Cnossus), where the cave of Eileithyia (i.e. a goddess of childbirth) (is), and he only just escaped the storm winds.  

Ll. 190-240. Distressed though she is, Penelope continues to question Odysseus.  

Then, he went at once to the city and asked for Idomeneus; for he declared that he was his beloved and honoured friend. But it was now the tenth or eleventh day since he had gone with his beaked ships to Ilium. So I took him to the palace and entertained (him) well, heartily welcoming (him) from the great (store of goods) that was within the house; and, as for the rest of his comrades who were accompanying him, I gathered up and gave (them), at the public expense, barley meal and sparkling wine, and cattle to be slaughtered, so that their hearts might be satisfied. Now there the noble Achaeans waited for twelve days; for a strong North wind confined (them there), and would not even allow them to keep their feet on the ground, for some hostile god had aroused (it). But on the thirteenth (day) the wind dropped, and they put out to sea.   

As he spoke, he made his many falsehoods seem like the truth. And as she listened to (him), the tears flowed and her cheeks were drenched, and as the snow melts on the lofty mountains, so the East Wind thaws it, when the West Wind has let it fall; and, as it melts, the rivers fill up as they flow; so did the tears she shed drench her fair cheeks, as she wept for the her husband, who was sitting at her side. But while Odysseus had pity in his heart for his weeping wife, his eyes remained steady between their lids as if (they were made of) horn or iron; and with guile did he conceal his tears. 

And so, when she had had her fill of tearful wailing, she answered (him) again and spoke these words to him: "Now then, stranger, I mean to put you to the test, (to see) if you really did entertain my husband, together with his godlike companions, there in your palace, as you say (you did). Tell me, what sort of clothes he was wearing around his body, and what he looked like, and the companions who were accompanying him."      

Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, answered her and said: "My lady, (it is) hard (for one) who has been parted (from him) for such a long time to tell (you this); for it is now twenty years from the time when he left this place and departed from my native-land; but I will tell you, as my mind pictures (him). Godlike Odysseus was wearing a fleecy purple cloak, (and it was) doubly-folded. And a golden brooch of his was fixed into a pair of sheaths; and on the front of it there was a curious (device): a hound was holding a dappled fawn, seizing (it) tightly as it writhed; and everyone marvelled at this, how, although they were made of gold, the (hound) was throttling the fawn as he held (it), but the (fawn) was writhing with its feet as it was striving to escape. And I noticed the glistening tunic around his body, (glistening) like the skin over a dried onion. So silky was it, and it was shining like the sun; and, indeed, many of the women gazed at it (in wonder). And I will tell you something else, and do you take (it) to heart. I do not know whether Odysseus wore these (clothes) around his body at home, or whether one of his comrades gave (it to him) when he embarked on his swift ship, or whether perhaps one of his guest-friends (did so), since Odysseus was a friend to many men; for few of the Achaeans were like (him).

Ll. 241-276. Odysseus prophesies his own return.

"I also gave him a sword of bronze and a fair purple double-folded cloak, and sent (him) off with honour on his well-benched ship. A herald also accompanied him, a little older than he (was); I will tell you of him too, what kind (of man) he was indeed. (He was) round-shouldered, dark-skinned, (and) curly-haired, and Eurybates was his name; and Odysseus honoured him above his other comrades, because he had thoughts in his mind that matched his own." 

So he spoke, and he aroused in her still more the desire to weep, as she recognised the sure tokens that Odysseus had shown her. But, when she had had her fill of tearful lamentation, then she said these words to him in reply:  

"Now, in truth, stranger, though before you were pitied by me, you will be beloved and honoured in my halls; for (it was) I myself (who) gave (him) this raiment, folded in the way you describe, (and) from the storeroom I brought forth the shining brooch to be a thing of delight to him; but I shall never welcome him back home again on his return to his dear native-land. Therefore, (it was) through an evil fate that Odysseus set forth in his hollow ship in search of that wicked (place called) Ilium (that it is better) not to name."

Then, quick-witted Odysseus said to her in reply: "O honoured wife of Laertes' son Odysseus, do not now mar your face any longer, nor let your heart melt away at all in weeping for your husband. Not that I would blame (you); for any (woman) would cry, when she loses her lawfully-wedded husband, by whom she has conceived children after having lain (with him) in love-making, (though he be) different from Odysseus, whom (men) say is like the gods. Yet do you cease from weeping and hearken unto my words: for I shall tell you truthfully, and will hold nothing back, that I now have news of the return of Odysseus, (and that he is) nearby (and) alive in the rich land of the men of Thesprotia (i.e. in Epirus in North-Western Greece); and he is bringing (home) many rich treasures, which he has begged from (the people of) that land. But he lost (all) his faithful companions and his hollow ship on the wine-dark sea, as he sailed from the island of Thrinacia (i.e. Sicily perhaps); for Zeus and Helios were at odds with Odysseus; for his comrades had slain the latter's cattle.  

Ll. 277-316. The disguised Odysseus continues to tell of the preparations he is making to return. 

"So they all perished in the stormy sea; but the waves cast him from the keel of the ship on to dry land in the country of the Phaeacians, who are akin to gods, and they honoured him most heartily, as if (he were) a god, and they gave him many (gifts) and wished themselves to send him home unscathed. And Odysseus could have been here a long time ago; but it seemed more profitable to his mind to gather goods by begging while he was travelling over the wide earth; so does Odysseus know beyond all mortal men (how to acquire) much wealth, nor could any other mortal vie with (him in this). So did Pheidon, king of the Thesprotians, tell me this tale: and as he was pouring drink offerings in his palace, he swore to me that the ship was launched and the crew were ready who would convey him to his native-land. But he sent me off before (him); for a ship (full) of Thesprotian men happened to be going to Dulichium, rich in corn. And he showed me all the treasure that Odysseus had gathered together; and now would it feed (a man and) his heirs down to the tenth generation, so great (is) the treasure (that) is lying (ready) for him in the halls of the king. But he said that he had gone to Dodona (i.e. a town in Thesprotia, which housed the most ancient oracle of Zeus, whose responses were delivered by the rustling of oak-trees in its sacred grove), to hear the will of Zeus from the lofty foliage of the god's oak-tree, as to how he should return to his own native-land, having now been away for so long, whether openly or in disguise. So thus he is safe and will soon be here, (as he is) very near, nor will he still be far away from his friends and his native-land for long; at all events, I will give you an oath. Now may Zeus, the best and the greatest of the gods know (this) first, and then the hearth of the peerless Odysseus, to which I have come, that, in truth, all these (things) will happen as I say. (In the course) of this very month, both at the waning of the moon and at its beginning, Odysseus will be here."

Then, wise Penelope answered him: "(O) stranger, if only this word (of yours) might be fulfilled; then would you know at once of my kindness and of the many gifts from me, so that anyone who meets you would call (you) blessed. But thus it seems in my heart, even as it shall be; neither shall Odysseus ever come home, nor shall you obtain an escort (from here), since there are not such leaders in this house as Odysseus was among men, if ever there was (such a man), to welcome strangers with honour and send (them) on their way.  

Ll. 317-360. Penelope offers the stranger hospitality. 

(1) But (come), my maids, wash his (hands and feet), and make ready his bed, mattress, and coverlets and glossy blankets, so he may keep well warm till gold-enthroned Dawn should come. And, right early in the morning, do you bathe (him) and anoint (him) with oil, so that in our house at the side of Telemachus he may be mindful of food, as he sits in our hall; and, if any of those (men) should abuse that (man) in a spiteful manner, the worse (it will be) for him; he will no longer achieve anything here, however he may rage most terribly. For how will you learn of me, stranger, whether I, in any way, surpass other women in wit and wise counsel, if you should eat in my hall, bedraggled and clothed in  rags; and men are short-lived. Whoever is hard-hearted himself, and his hardness is evident, upon him do all mortal (men) invoke curses for the future while he is alive, and, when he is dead, all (men) mock (him); but if a man himself is blameless, and his blamelessness is evident, his guest-friends spread abroad his reputation widely among all men, and many speak well of him."

Then, quick-witted Odysseus spoke to her in reply: "O honoured wife of Laertes' son Odysseus, in truth coverlets and glossy blankets became hateful to me, (on the day) when I first turned my back upon the snow-capped mountains of Crete and sailed off in my long-oared ship, and so I will lie down, just as I have often spent sleepless nights upon an unseemly bed and waited for heavenly Dawn on her beautiful throne. Water for washing my feet brings no pleasure at all to my heart; nor shall any woman, of all those serving women in your hall, touch my feet, unless there is some old woman, trusty (and) knowing, who has suffered as much in her heart as I (have). I would not begrudge her touching my feet."      

Then, wise Penelope spoke to him once more: "Dear friend - for never yet has any man as discreet (as you), of (those who are) strangers from afar, come to my house as a more welcome (guest), as you say all your wise (words) with such eloquence; I have an old dame who has wise counsels in her breast, who tenderly nursed and reared my poor husband, having taken (him) in her arms, when his mother first bore him. She will wash your feet, rather frail though she is. But come now, wise Eurycleia, get up (and) wash the feet) of (someone who is) of the same age as your master; no doubt, Odysseus now has such hands and feet as his; for men age quickly in misfortune."     

Ll. 361-404. Eurycleia considers that the stranger is very similar in appearance to her master. 

So she spoke, and the old lady covered her face with her hands, and shed hot tears, and spoke these words of grief: "Woe is me, my child, as I can do nothing for you; Zeus must indeed have hated you above (all other) men, though you had a god-fearing heart. For no other mortal ever burnt so many fat thigh-pieces, nor such choice hecatombs, as you gave him, when you prayed that you might reach a comfortable old age and raise a glorious son; but now from you alone has he wholly cut off the day of your home-coming. Perhaps the women from some strange far away country mocked him in this way too, whenever he came to some man's glorious house, just as all these bitches (here) have mocked you, and now, in order to avoid this maltreatment and the many insults, you did not allow them to wash (your feet); but wise Penelope, daughter of Icarius, has told me (to do so), and I am not unwilling. Therefore, I shall wash your feet, for the sake of both Penelope herself and you, for the heart within me is stirred with sorrow. But come now, pay attention to these words that I would say: now many much-suffering strangers have come here, but I do not think that I have ever seen a man so like another, as you, in bodily shape, and voice and feet, are like Odysseus."

Then, quick-witted Odysseus said to her in reply: "Old woman, so they say who have set eyes on us both, that we are very alike one another, just as you yourself so shrewdly state." 

So he spoke, and the old woman took a shining cauldron to thoroughly wash his feet, and she poured much cold water and then (some that was) hot. Odysseus was sitting by the fireplace, but he quickly turned to face the darkness; for he suddenly had an anxious thought, that, when she took hold of him, she might notice the scar and his secret would become known. Then, she came nearer and began to wash her master; and at once she recognised the scar, which a boar had once inflicted on him with a white tusk, when he had gone to (Mount) Parnassus with Autolycus and his sons, (him being) his mother's (i.e. Anticleia's) noble father, who surpassed (all other) men in thievery and oath-taking; and the god Hermes himself gave him (these skills); for for him he was pleased to burn the thigh-pieces of lambs and kids; and he (i.e. Hermes) readily supported him (i.e. Autolycus). Now, when Autolycus came to the rich land of Ithaca, he came upon his daughter's new born son; then, when he had finished his supper, Eurycleia laid the (boy) upon his knees, and spoke these words and addressed (him) by name: "Autolycus, you must now find a name which you can give to the dear child of your child; for, to be sure, he is much prayed for."

Ll. 405-454. The young man, whom Autolycus has named Odysseus, kills the wild boar that had wounded him. 

Then, Autolycus answered her and said: "My son-in-law (i.e. Laertes) and daughter (i.e. Anticleia), do you give him whatever name I say; for I come hither wishing suffering on many men and women over the fruitful earth; so let his name be Odysseus in signification (of this). But, when he shall attain manhood, and shall come to the great house of his mother's kin at Parnassus, to the place where my possessions are, I shall give some of them to him, and I shall send him back rejoicing." 

Odysseus had come on account of these (things), in order that he might give him these glorious gifts. Then, Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus greeted him with (open) arms and words of welcome; and his mother's mother, Amphithea, clasped Odysseus in her arms, and kissed his forehead and both his fine eyes. Then, Autolycus told his glorious sons to prepare a meal; and they hearkened to his call, and at once they led in a five-year-old bull; and they flayed (it) and tended (it), and cut it up into little pieces, and they skilfully chopped (them) and stuck (them) on spits, and they carefully roasted (them), and distributed the helpings. Then all day long until sunset they banqueted, nor did their hearts feel at all the want of an equal feast; but, when the sun set and darkness came on, so then they lay down to rest and took the gift of sleep. 

But, when the early Dawn appeared, rosy-fingered (as she is), they went their way to the hunt, the hounds as well as the sons of Autolycus; and with them went godlike Odysseus; and they climbed the steep mountain of Parnassus, clothed in forest, and soon they reached its windy clefts. Now the Sun was just striking the fields with his rays, (as he rose) from the soft-flowing deep-streaming Ocean, when the huntsmen came to a glen; ahead of them went the hounds, keeping track of footprints, and behind (them came) the sons of Autolycus; and with them, close to the hounds, came the godlike Odysseus, brandishing his long-shafted spear. Now there a mighty wild boar was lying in a dense thicket; yet not even the moist strength of blowing winds could penetrate it, nor could the bright Sun beat it with its rays, nor could the rain drive right through (it); so thick it was then, even though there was very much shedding of leaves. Then around him came the noise of the feet of both men and dogs, as they came on in the chase; and out he came from his lair with his back bristling strongly and flashing fire in his eyes, and then he stood nearby them; then, first of all, Odysseus sprang forward, holding up his long spear in his stout hand. eager to smite (him); but, in anticipation, the boar struck him above the knee and darting at him from the side he tore a long (gash in) his flesh, but it failed to reach the man's bone. Then, Odysseus happened to strike him on the right shoulder, and the point of his shining spear went right through, and down he fell in the dust with a groan, and the life flew from (him).   

Ll. 455-498. Eurycleia recognises Odysseus.

Then, the dear sons of Autolycus took charge of the (boar's carcass), and they skilfully bound up the wound of noble godlike Odysseus, and staunched the dark blood with an incantation, and soon they were back at their father's palace. Now, when Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus had fully healed him and had given (him) glorious gifts, they sent him quickly back home in happiness to his native-land of Ithaca. Then, his father  (i.e. Laertes) and his queenly mother (i.e. Anticleia) rejoiced at his return and inquired into everything, (and) how he got his wound; and he told them in detail how a wild boar had wounded him with a white tusk as he was hunting, when he had gone to Parnassus with the sons of Autolycus.  

This (scar) the old woman (i.e. Eurycleia) felt and recognised as she passed over (it) with the flat of her hand, and then she let fall the foot she was holding. Then, his shin fell in the basin, and the bronze vessel clattered as it keeled over to one side; and the water spilt on the floor. Then joy and grief seized her soul at the same time, and so her eyes were filled with tears and and her sturdy voice stuck (in her throat). Then, she touched Odysseus on the chin and said: "For sure you are Odysseus, my dear child; and I did not know you before, until I touched my master all over."

So she (i.e. Eurycleia) spoke, and turned her eyes towards Penelope, wishing to tell (her) that her husband was at home. But she (i.e. Penelope) could not meet her gaze nor pay her any attention, for Athene had turned her thoughts aside; but Odysseus, feeling for her (i.e. Eurycleia's) throat, gripped (it) with his right hand, and drew her closer (to him) with the other, and whispered: "Good mother, why do you wish to destroy me? You, yourself, did nurse me at that breast of yours; and now, after suffering many grievous woes, I have come home after twenty years to my native-land. But, since you have discovered (this), and a god has put (it) in your heart, keep silent, so that no one else in the house shall become aware of (it). For otherwise I will tell (you), and, verily, it shall be brought to pass: if some god shall shall subdue these fine suitors under me, I will not spare you, my nurse though you are, when I shall slay the other serving-women in my halls."  

Then, the wise Eurycleia addressed him again: "My child, what a statement has escaped the barrier of your teeth! You know how strong and unyielding my spirit (is), and I shall be held in check as though I were (a piece of) solid stone or iron. And another (thing) I will tell you, and do you lay (it) in your heart: if a god shall subdue the lordly wooers under you, then (shall I go through) the women in your halls and pick out (those) who are dishonouring you and (those) who are guiltless." 

Ll. 499-543. Penelope's dream.

The quick-witted Odysseus replied to her in answer: "Why do you mention them? There is no need at all for you (to do so). Now I myself will consider the position carefully and look at each one (of them); but you must keep silent about this plan, and entrust (matters) to the gods." 

So then he spoke; and the old lady went right through the hall to fetch water to wash his feet; for earlier it had all been spilt. Now, when she had washed (them) and anointed (them) richly with olive-oil, Odysseus drew his stool closer to the fire once more, so as to keep warm, and he covered the scar with his rags. Then, wise Penelope began speaking to them: "Friend, I myself still have to ask you this: for it will soon be time for sweet rest, at least for anyone to whom sweet sleep may come, despite their being distressed. But, in my case, a god has given me an immense grief; for by day I have my fill of weeping (and) sighing, as I go about my tasks, and keep myself busy in the house; but, when night comes and brings sleep to everyone (else), I lie on my bed and sharp sufferings throng around my throbbing heart (and) disturb me as I lament. As when the daughter of Pandareus (i.e. King of Crete), the olive-green nightingale (i.e. Aedon), sings sweetly, when spring is newly come, as she sits amid the thick foliage of the trees, and with frequent twists and turns she pours forth her many-toned voice, as she laments her child Itylus, the son of king Zethus (i.e. King of Thebes), whom through her folly she had one day slain with a sword, even so my heart is torn in two directions, this way and that, whether I should abide with my son and firmly guard everything, my possessions, my slaves, and my great high-roofed house, out of respect for my husband's bed and for public opinion, or whether I should now go away with one of the suitors (here) in the palace, (the one) who is the best of the Achaeans in giving out countless wedding gifts. When my son was still a child and dependent, it was not permissible for me to leave my husband's house and get married (again); but now that he is grown up and has reached the prime of youth, now indeed he prays for me to go away from the house, concerned (as he is) for his property, which the Achaeans are squandering. But come (now), hear this dream of mine and interpret (it for me). I (keep) twenty geese (here) in my house, (that came forth) from the water to eat wheat, and I delight in looking at them; but there came forth from the mountain a great eagle with a crooked beak, and it broke their necks and killed them all; and they lay strewn in a heap in the hall, and he was borne aloft into the bright sky. Now, I wept and wailed, even though (it was) in a dream, and Achaean (women) with beautiful tresses gathered around me, as I grieved piteously that an eagle had killed my geese. 

Ll. 544-575. Penelope proposes a challenge for the suitors.

"Back then he (i.e. the eagle) came, and perched on a projecting roof-beam, and checked (my tears) by speaking in a human voice: 'Be of good cheer, daughter of far-famed Icarius; (this is) no dream, but (it is) a reality (and) a good (one), which will surely find fulfilment. The geese (are) the wooers, and I, (who) before was an eagle to you, have now come back as your husband, who will inflict a cruel death on all of the wooers.' So he spoke, and, looking around, I saw the geese in the halls, feeding on wheat beside the trough where they used (to feed)."  

Then, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, spoke to her in reply: "It is not possible to interpret this dream to give another meaning, since Odysseus himself has surely shown you how he will bring it about; the downfall of all the suitors is plainly to be seen, and not one (of them) will escape death and his fate." 

Now, wise Penelope addressed him again: "Dreams, my friend, are baffling and confusing (things), nor does everything come true at all in the case of men. For there are two gates of fleeting dreams: of these, those that pass through (the gates) of sawn ivory, they are deceivers (of men), and bring forth fruitless words; but those that pass through the gates of polished horn, they shall bring to pass true (things), when any mortal shall see (them). But, in my case, I do not think my uncanny dream came from there; truly, that would have been welcome to me and my son. But I will tell you something else, and do you lay (it) on your heart: the hateful day is (drawing near), that will draw me from the house of Odysseus; for now I shall lay down for a contest the axes which he used to set up in a row in his halls like props (under a new keel), twelve in all, then, standing some distance away, he used to shoot an arrow through (them).    

Ll. 576-604. Prior to the contest, Penelope withdraws to her bedchamber. 

"And now I shall launch this contest between the wooers; whichever one (of them) shall string a bow in his hands most easily, and shoot an arrow through all twelve axes, with him will I go and turn my back on this home (of mine), (a house) most fair and full of life, which I think I shall always remember, even in my dreams."

Then, in reply to her, the resourceful Odysseus said: "O honoured wife of Laertes' son Odysseus, do not now delay this contest in your palace any longer; for, let me tell you, Odysseus, (that man) of many wiles, will be here long before those (men), as they fondle the polished bow, should have strung a bow-spring and shot an arrow through the iron (rings)."

Then, wise Penelope addressed him again: "If, my friend, you would only sit here in my hall and give me the pleasure (of your company), sleep should never fall upon my eyelids. But it is not possible that men shall be forever sleepless; for the gods, let me tell you, have given mortals a proper time for everything upon the fruitful earth. But, now indeed, I shall go upstairs and lie down on my bed, which, in my case, is the cause of groans, (as it is) ever soiled by my tears, from the time when Odysseus went away to Evil-Ilium, which I choose not to name. There I shall lie down; as for you, lie down somewhere in the house, either spread bedding on the floor, or let (the servants) set down a couch for you."

So speaking, she went up to her bright upper chamber, not alone but her handmaids went with her as well. And, when she had gone upstairs with her serving women, then she wept for Odysseus, her beloved husband, until bright-eyed Athene cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.