Translation of: The Odyssey of Homer: Book XVIII

ARGUMENT     The beggar Irus arrives at the palace; a combat takes place between him and Ulysses, in which Irus is by one blow vanquished. Penelope appears to the suitors, and having reminded them of the presents which she had a right to expect from them, receives a gift from each. Eurymachus, provoked by a speech of Ulysses, flings a foot-stool at him, which knocks down the cup-bearer; a general tumult is the consequence, which continues, till by the advice of Telemachus, seconded by Amphinomus, the suitors retire to their respective homes.             Now came a public mendicant, a man             Accustom'd, seeking alms, to roam the streets             Of Ithaca; one never sated yet             With food or drink; yet muscle had he none,             Or strength of limb, though giant-built in show.             Arnus was the name which at his birth             His mother gave him, but the youthful band             Of suitors, whom as messenger he served,             All named him Irus. He, arriving, sought             To drive Ulysses forth from his own home,             And in rough accents rude him thus rebuked.                 Forth from the porch, old man! lest by the foot             I drag thee quickly forth. Seest not how all             Wink on me, and by signs give me command             To drag thee hence? nor is it aught but shame             That checks me. Yet arise, lest soon with fists             Thou force me to adjust our diff'rence.                 To whom Ulysses, low'ring dark, replied.             Peace, fellow! neither word nor deed of mine             Wrongs thee, nor feel I envy at the boon,             However plentiful, which thou receiv'st.             The sill may hold us both; thou dost not well             To envy others; thou appear'st like me             A vagrant; plenty is the gift of heav'n.             But urge me not to trial of our fists,             Lest thou provoke me, and I stain with blood             Thy bosom and thy lips, old as I am.             So, my attendance should to-morrow prove             More tranquil here; for thou should'st leave, I judge,             Ulysses' mansion, never to return.                 Then answer'd Irus, kindling with disdain.             Gods! with what volubility of speech             The table-hunter prates, like an old hag             Collied with chimney-smutch! but ah beware!             For I intend thee mischief, and to dash             With both hands ev'ry grinder from thy gums,             As men untooth a pig pilf'ring the corn.             Come--gird thee, that all here may view the strife--             But how wilt thou oppose one young as I?                 Thus on the threshold of the lofty gate             They, wrangling, chafed each other, whose dispute             The high-born youth Antinos mark'd; he laugh'd             Delighted, and the suitors thus address'd.                 Oh friends! no pastime ever yet occurr'd             Pleasant as this which, now, the Gods themselves             Afford us. Irus and the stranger brawl             As they would box. Haste--let us urge them on.                 He said; at once loud-laughing all arose;             The ill-clad disputants they round about             Encompass'd, and Antinos thus began.                 Attend ye noble suitors to my voice.             Two paunches lie of goats here on the fire,             Which fill'd with fat and blood we set apart             For supper; he who conquers, and in force             Superior proves, shall freely take the paunch             Which he prefers, and shall with us thenceforth             Feast always; neither will we here admit             Poor man beside to beg at our repasts.                 He spake, whom all approved; next, artful Chief             Ulysses thus, dissembling, them address'd.                 Princes! unequal is the strife between             A young man and an old with mis'ry worn;             But hunger, always counsellor of ill,             Me moves to fight, that many a bruise received,             I may be foil'd at last. Now swear ye all             A solemn oath, that none, for Irus' sake             Shall, interposing, smite me with his fist             Clandestine, forcing me to yield the prize.                 He ceas'd, and, as he bade, all present swore             A solemn oath; then thus, amid them all             Standing, Telemachus majestic spake.                 Guest! if thy courage and thy manly mind             Prompt thee to banish this man hence, no force             Fear thou beside, for who smites thee, shall find             Yet other foes to cope with; I am here             In the host's office, and the royal Chiefs             Eurymachus and Antinos, alike             Discrete, accord unanimous with me.                 He ceas'd, whom all approved. Then, with his rags             Ulysses braced for decency his loins             Around, but gave to view his brawny thighs             Proportion'd fair, and stripp'd his shoulders broad,             His chest and arms robust; while, at his side,             Dilating more the Hero's limbs and more             Minerva stood; the assembly with fixt eyes             Astonish'd gazed on him, and, looking full             On his next friend, a suitor thus remark'd.                 Irus shall be in Irus found no more.             He hath pull'd evil on himself. What thewes             And what a haunch the senior's tatters hid!                 So he--meantime in Irus' heart arose             Horrible tumult; yet, his loins by force             Girding, the servants dragg'd him to the fight             Pale, and his flesh all quiv'ring as he came;             Whose terrors thus Antinos sharp rebuked.                 Now, wherefore liv'st, and why wast ever born             Thou mountain-mass of earth! if such dismay             Shake thee at thought of combat with a man             Ancient as he, and worn with many woes?             But mark, I threaten not in vain; should he             O'ercome thee, and in force superior prove,             To Echetus thou go'st; my sable bark             Shall waft thee to Epirus, where he reigns             Enemy of mankind; of nose and ears             He shall despoil thee with his ruthless steel,             And tearing by the roots the parts away[79]             That mark thy sex, shall cast them to the dogs.                 He said; His limbs new terrors at that sound             Shook under him; into the middle space             They led him, and each raised his hands on high.             Then doubtful stood Ulysses toil-inured,             Whether to strike him lifeless to the earth             At once, or fell him with a managed blow.             To smite with managed force at length he chose             As wisest, lest, betray'd by his own strength,             He should be known. With elevated fists             Both stood; him Irus on the shoulder struck,             But he his adversary on the neck             Pash'd close beneath his ear; he split the bones,             And blood in sable streams ran from his mouth.             With many an hideous yell he dropp'd, his teeth             Chatter'd, and with his heels he drumm'd the ground.             The wooers, at that sight, lifting their hands             In glad surprize, laugh'd all their breath away.             Then, through the vestibule, and right across             The court, Ulysses dragg'd him by the foot             Into the portico, where propping him             Against the wall, and giving him his staff,             In accents wing'd he bade him thus farewell.                 There seated now, dogs drive and swine away,             Nor claim (thyself so base) supreme controul             O'er other guests and mendicants, lest harm             Reach thee, hereafter, heavier still than this.                 So saying, his tatter'd wallet o'er his back             He threw suspended by its leathern twist,             And tow'rd the threshold turning, sat again,             They laughing ceaseless still, the palace-door             Re-enter'd, and him, courteous, thus bespake.                 Jove, and all Jove's assessors in the skies             Vouchsafe thee, stranger, whatsoe'er it be,             Thy heart's desire! who hast our ears reliev'd             From that insatiate beggar's irksome tone.             Soon to Epirus he shall go dispatch'd             To Echetus the King, pest of mankind.                 So they, to whose propitious words the Chief             Listen'd delighted. Then Antinos placed             The paunch before him, and Amphinomus             Two loaves, selected from the rest; he fill'd             A goblet also, drank to him, and said,                 My father, hail! O stranger, be thy lot             Hereafter blest, though adverse now and hard!                 To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.             To me, Amphinomus, endued thou seem'st             With much discretion, who art also son             Of such a sire, whose fair report I know,             Dulichian Nysus, opulent and good.             Fame speaks thee his, and thou appear'st a man             Judicious; hear me, therefore; mark me well.             Earth nourishes, of all that breathe or creep,             No creature weak as man; for while the Gods             Grant him prosperity and health, no fear             Hath he, or thought, that he shall ever mourn;             But when the Gods with evils unforeseen             Smite him, he bears them with a grudging mind;             For such as the complexion of his lot             By the appointment of the Sire of all,             Such is the colour of the mind of man.             I, too, have been familiar in my day             With wealth and ease, but I was then self-will'd,             And many wrong'd, embolden'd by the thought             Of my own father's and my brethren's pow'r.             Let no man, therefore, be unjust, but each             Use modestly what gift soe'er of heav'n.             So do not these. These ever bent I see             On deeds injurious, the possessions large             Consuming, and dishonouring the wife             Of one, who will not, as I judge, remain             Long absent from his home, but is, perchance,             Ev'n at the door. Thee, therefore, may the Gods             Steal hence in time! ah, meet not his return             To his own country! for they will not part,             (He and the suitors) without blood, I think,             If once he enter at these gates again!                 He ended, and, libation pouring, quaff'd             The generous juice, then in the prince's hand             Replaced the cup; he, pensive, and his head             Inclining low, pass'd from him; for his heart             Forboded ill; yet 'scaped not even he,             But in the snare of Pallas caught, his life             To the heroic arm and spear resign'd             Of brave Telemachus. Reaching, at length,             The seat whence he had ris'n, he sat again.                 Minerva then, Goddess, crulean-eyed,             Prompted Icarius' daughter to appear             Before the suitors; so to expose the more             Their drift iniquitous, and that herself             More bright than ever in her husband's eyes             Might shine, and in her son's. Much mirth she feign'd,[80]             And, bursting into laughter, thus began.                 I wish, Eurynome! (who never felt             That wish till now) though I detest them all,             To appear before the suitors, in whose ears             I will admonish, for his good, my son,             Not to associate with that lawless crew             Too much, who speak him fair, but foul intend.                 Then answer thus Eurynome return'd.             My daughter! wisely hast thou said and well.             Go! bathe thee and anoint thy face, then give             To thy dear son such counsel as thou wilt             Without reserve; but shew not there thy cheeks             Sullied with tears, for profit none accrues             From grief like thine, that never knows a change.             And he is now bearded, and hath attained             That age which thou wast wont with warmest pray'r             To implore the Gods that he might live to see.                 Her answer'd then Penelope discrete.             Persuade not me, though studious of my good,             To bathe, Eurynome! or to anoint             My face with oil; for all my charms the Gods             Inhabitants of Olympus then destroy'd,             When he, embarking, left me. Go, command             Hippodamia and Autone             That they attend me to the hall, and wait             Beside me there; for decency forbids             That I should enter to the men, alone.                 She ceas'd, and through the house the ancient dame             Hasted to summon whom she had enjoin'd.                 But Pallas, Goddess of the azure eyes,             Diffused, meantime, the kindly dew of sleep             Around Icarius' daughter; on her couch             Reclining, soon as she reclin'd, she dozed,             And yielded to soft slumber all her frame.             Then, that the suitors might admire her more,             The glorious Goddess cloath'd her, as she lay,             With beauty of the skies; her lovely face             She with ambrosia purified, with such             As Cytherea chaplet-crown'd employs             Herself, when in the eye-ensnaring dance             She joins the Graces; to a statelier height             Beneath her touch, and ampler size she grew,             And fairer than the elephantine bone             Fresh from the carver's hand. These gifts conferr'd             Divine, the awful Deity retired.             And now, loud-prattling as they came, arrived             Her handmaids; sleep forsook her at the sound,             She wiped away a tear, and thus she said.                 Me gentle sleep, sad mourner as I am,             Hath here involved. O would that by a death             As gentle chaste Diana would herself             This moment set me free, that I might waste             My life no longer in heart-felt regret             Of a lamented husband's various worth             And virtue, for in Greece no Peer had he!                 She said, and through her chambers' stately door             Issuing, descended; neither went she sole,             But with those two fair menials of her train.             Arriving, most majestic of her sex,             In presence of the num'rous guests, beneath             The portal of the stately dome she stood             Between her maidens, with her lucid veil             Mantling her lovely cheeks. Then, ev'ry knee             Trembled, and ev'ry heart with am'rous heat             Dissolv'd, her charms all coveting alike,             While to Telemachus her son she spake.                 Telemachus! thou art no longer wise             As once thou wast, and even when a child.             For thriven as thou art, and at full size             Arrived of man, so fair proportion'd, too,             That ev'n a stranger, looking on thy growth             And beauty, would pronounce thee nobly born,             Yet is thy intellect still immature.             For what is this? why suffer'st thou a guest             To be abused in thy own palace? how?             Know'st not that if the stranger seated here             Endure vexation, the disgrace is thine?                 Her answer'd, then, Telemachus discrete.             I blame thee not, my mother, that thou feel'st             Thine anger moved; yet want I not a mind             Able to mark and to discern between             Evil and good, child as I lately was,             Although I find not promptitude of thought             Sufficient always, overaw'd and check'd             By such a multitude, all bent alike             On mischief, of whom none takes part with me.             But Irus and the stranger have not fought,             Urged by the suitors, and the stranger prov'd             Victorious; yes--heav'n knows how much I wish             That, (in the palace some, some in the court)             The suitors all sat vanquish'd, with their heads             Depending low, and with enfeebled limbs,             Even as that same Irus, while I speak,             With chin on bosom propp'd at the hall-gate             Sits drunkard-like, incapable to stand             Erect, or to regain his proper home.                 So they; and now addressing to the Queen             His speech, Eurymachus thus interposed.                 O daughter of Icarius! could all eyes             Throughout Isian Argos[81] view thy charms,             Discrete Penelope! more suitors still             Assembling in thy courts would banquet here             From morn to eve; for thou surpassest far             In beauty, stature, worth, all womankind.                 To whom replied Penelope discrete.             The Gods, Eurymachus! reduced to nought             My virtue, beauty, stature, when the Greeks,             Whom my Ulysses follow'd, sail'd to Troy.             Could he, returning, my domestic charge             Himself intend, far better would my fame             Be so secured, and wider far diffused.             But I am wretched now, such storms the Gods             Of woe have sent me. When he left his home,             Clasping my wrist with his right hand, he said.                 My love! for I imagine not that all             The warrior Greeks shall safe from Troy return,             Since fame reports the Trojans brave in fight,             Skill'd in the spear, mighty to draw the bow,             And nimble vaulters to the backs of steeds             High-mettled, which to speediest issue bring             The dreadful struggle of all-wasting war--             I know not, therefore, whether heav'n intend             My safe return, or I must perish there.             But manage thou at home. Cherish, as now,             While I am absent, or more dearly still             My parents, and what time our son thou seest             Mature, then wed; wed even whom thou wilt,             And hence to a new home.--Such were his words,             All which shall full accomplishment ere long             Receive. The day is near, when hapless I,             Lost to all comfort by the will of Jove,             Must meet the nuptials that my soul abhors.             But this thought now afflicts me, and my mind             Continual haunts. Such was not heretofore             The suitors' custom'd practice; all who chose             To engage in competition for a wife             Well-qualitied and well-endow'd, produced             From their own herds and fatted flocks a feast             For the bride's friends, and splendid presents made,             But never ate as ye, at others' cost.                 She ceased; then brave Ulysses toil-inured             Rejoiced that, soothing them, she sought to draw             From each some gift, although on other views,             And more important far, himself intent.                 Then thus Antinos, Eupithes' son.             Icarius' daughter wise! only accept             Such gifts as we shall bring, for gifts demand             That grace, nor can be decently refused;             But to our rural labours, or elsewhere             Depart not we, till first thy choice be made             Of the Achaian, chief in thy esteem.                 Antinos spake, whose answer all approved.             Then each dispatch'd his herald who should bring             His master's gift. Antinos' herald, first             A mantle of surpassing beauty brought,             Wide, various, with no fewer clasps adorn'd             Than twelve, all golden, and to ev'ry clasp             Was fitted opposite its eye exact.             Next, to Eurymachus his herald bore             A necklace of wrought gold, with amber rich             Bestudded, ev'ry bead bright as a sun.             Two servants for Eurydamas produced             Ear-pendants fashion'd with laborious art,             Broad, triple-gemm'd, of brilliant light profuse.             The herald of Polyctor's son, the prince             Pisander, brought a collar to his Lord,             A sumptuous ornament. Each Greecian gave,             And each a gift dissimilar from all.             Then, loveliest of her sex, turning away,             She sought her chamber, whom her maidens fair             Attended, charged with those illustrious gifts.             Then turn'd, they all to dance and pleasant song             Joyous, expecting the approach of ev'n.             Ere long the dusky evening came, and them             Found sporting still. Then, placing in the hall             Three hearths that should illumine wide the house,             They compass'd them around with fuel-wood             Long-season'd and new-split, mingling the sticks             With torches. The attendant women watch'd             And fed those fires by turns, to whom, himself,             Their unknown Sov'reign thus his speech address'd.                 Ye maidens of the long-regretted Chief             Ulysses! to the inner-courts retire,             And to your virtuous Queen, that following there             Your sev'ral tasks, spinning and combing wool,             Ye may amuse her; I, meantime, for these             Will furnish light, and should they chuse to stay             Till golden morn appear, they shall not tire             My patience aught, for I can much endure.                 He said; they, titt'ring, on each other gazed.             But one, Melantho with the blooming cheeks,             Rebuked him rudely. Dolius was her sire,             But by Penelope she had been reared             With care maternal, and in infant years             Supplied with many a toy; yet even she             Felt not her mistress' sorrows in her heart,             But, of Eurymachus enamour'd, oft             His lewd embraces met; she, with sharp speech             Reproachful, to Ulysses thus replied.                 Why--what a brainsick vagabond art thou!             Who neither wilt to the smith's forge retire             For sleep, nor to the public portico,             But here remaining, with audacious prate             Disturb'st this num'rous company, restrain'd             By no respect or fear; either thou art             With wine intoxicated, or, perchance,             Art always fool, and therefore babblest now.             Say, art thou drunk with joy that thou hast foiled             The beggar Irus? Tremble, lest a man             Stronger than Irus suddenly arise,             Who on thy temples pelting thee with blows             Far heavier than his, shall drive thee hence             With many a bruise, and foul with thy own blood.                 To whom Ulysses, frowning stern, replied.             Snarler! Telemachus shall be inform'd             This moment of thy eloquent harangue,             That he may hew thee for it, limb from limb.                 So saying, he scared the women; back they flew             Into the house, but each with falt'ring knees             Through dread, for they believ'd his threats sincere.             He, then illumin'd by the triple blaze,             Watch'd close the lights, busy from hearth to hearth,             But in his soul, meantime, far other thoughts             Revolved, tremendous, not conceived in vain.                 Nor Pallas (that they might exasp'rate more             Laertes' son) permitted to abstain             From heart-corroding bitterness of speech             Those suitors proud, of whom Eurymachus,             Offspring of Polybus, while thus he jeer'd             Ulysses, set the others in a roar.                 Hear me, ye suitors of the illustrious Queen!             I shall promulge my thought. This man, methinks,             Not unconducted by the Gods, hath reach'd             Ulysses' mansion, for to me the light             Of yonder torches altogether seems             His own, an emanation from his head,             Which not the smallest growth of hair obscures.                 He ended; and the city-waster Chief             Himself accosted next. Art thou disposed             To serve me, friend! would I afford thee hire,             A labourer at my farm? thou shalt not want             Sufficient wages; thou may'st there collect             Stones for my fences, and may'st plant my oaks,             For which I would supply thee all the year             With food, and cloaths, and sandals for thy feet.             But thou hast learn'd less creditable arts,             Nor hast a will to work, preferring much             By beggary from others to extort             Wherewith to feed thy never-sated maw.                 Then answer, thus, Ulysses wise return'd.             Forbear, Eurymachus; for were we match'd             In work against each other, thou and I,             Mowing in spring-time, when the days are long,             I with my well-bent sickle in my hand,             Thou arm'd with one as keen, for trial sake             Of our ability to toil unfed             Till night, grass still sufficing for the proof.--             Or if, again, it were our task to drive             Yoked oxen of the noblest breed, sleek-hair'd,             Big-limb'd, both batten'd to the full with grass,             Their age and aptitude for work the same             Not soon to be fatigued, and were the field             In size four acres, with a glebe through which             The share might smoothly slide, then should'st thou see             How strait my furrow should be cut and true.--             Or should Saturnian Jove this day excite             Here, battle, or elsewhere, and were I arm'd             With two bright spears and with a shield, and bore             A brazen casque well-fitted to my brows,             Me, then, thou should'st perceive mingling in fight             Amid the foremost Chiefs, nor with the crime             Of idle beggary should'st upbraid me more.             But thou art much a railer, one whose heart             Pity moves not, and seem'st a mighty man             And valiant to thyself, only because             Thou herd'st with few, and those of little worth.             But should Ulysses come, at his own isle             Again arrived, wide as these portals are,             To thee, at once, too narrow they should seem             To shoot thee forth with speed enough abroad.                 He ceased--then tenfold indignation fired             Eurymachus; he furrow'd deep his brow             With frowns, and in wing'd accents thus replied.                 Wretch, I shall roughly handle thee anon,             Who thus with fluent prate presumptuous dar'st             Disturb this num'rous company, restrain'd             By no respect or fear. Either thou art             With wine intoxicated, or, perchance,             Art always fool, and therefore babblest now;             Or thou art frantic haply with delight             That thou hast foil'd yon vagabond obscure.                 So saying, he seized a stool; but to the knees             Ulysses flew of the Dulichian Prince             Amphinomus, and sat, fearing incensed             Eurymachus; he on his better hand             Smote full the cup-bearer; on the hall-floor             Loud rang the fallen beaker, and himself             Lay on his back clamouring in the dust.             Strait through the dusky hall tumult ensued             Among the suitors, of whom thus, a youth,             With eyes directed to the next, exclaim'd.                 Would that this rambling stranger had elsewhere             Perish'd, or ever he had here arrived,             Then no such uproar had he caused as this!             This doth the beggar; he it is for whom             We wrangle thus, and may despair of peace             Or pleasure more; now look for strife alone.                 Then in the midst Telemachus upstood             Majestic, and the suitors thus bespake.             Sirs! ye are mad, and can no longer eat             Or drink in peace; some dmon troubles you.             But since ye all have feasted, to your homes             Go now, and, at your pleasure, to your beds;             Soonest were best, but I thrust no man hence.                 He ceased; they gnawing stood their lips, aghast             With wonder that Telemachus in his speech             Such boldness used. Then rose Amphinomus,             Brave son of Nisus offspring of the King             Aretus, and the assembly thus address'd.                 My friends! let none with contradiction thwart             And rude reply words rational and just;             Assault no more the stranger, nor of all             The servants of renown'd Ulysses here             Harm any. Come. Let the cup-bearer fill             To all, that due libation made, to rest             We may repair at home, leaving the Prince             To accommodate beneath his father's roof             The stranger, for he is the Prince's guest.                 He ended, whose advice none disapproved.             The Hero Mulius then, Dulichian-born,             And herald of Amphinomus, the cup             Filling, dispensed it, as he stood, to all;             They, pouring forth to the Immortals, quaff'd             The luscious bev'rage, and when each had made             Libation, and such measure as he would             Of wine had drunk, then all to rest retired.