Translation of: The Odyssey of Homer: Book XXII

ARGUMENT     Ulysses, with some little assistance from Telemachus, Eumus and Philoetius, slays all the suitors, and twelve of the female servants who had allowed themselves an illicit intercourse with them, are hanged. Melanthius also is punished with miserable mutilation.             Then, girding up his rags, Ulysses sprang             With bow and full-charged quiver to the door;             Loose on the broad stone at his feet he pour'd             His arrows, and the suitors, thus, bespake.                 This prize, though difficult, hath been atchieved.             Now for another mark which never man             Struck yet, but I will strike it if I may,             And if Apollo make that glory mine.                 He said, and at Antinos aimed direct             A bitter shaft; he, purposing to drink,             Both hands advanced toward the golden cup             Twin-ear'd, nor aught suspected death so nigh.             For who, at the full banquet, could suspect             That any single guest, however brave,             Should plan his death, and execute the blow?             Yet him Ulysses with an arrow pierced             Full in the throat, and through his neck behind             Started the glitt'ring point. Aslant he droop'd;             Down fell the goblet, through his nostrils flew             The spouted blood, and spurning with his foot             The board, he spread his viands in the dust.             Confusion, when they saw Antinos fall'n,             Seized all the suitors; from the thrones they sprang,             Flew ev'ry way, and on all sides explored             The palace-walls, but neither sturdy lance             As erst, nor buckler could they there discern,             Then, furious, to Ulysses thus they spake.                 Thy arrow, stranger, was ill-aimed; a man             Is no just mark. Thou never shalt dispute             Prize more. Inevitable death is thine.             For thou hast slain a Prince noblest of all             In Ithaca, and shalt be vultures' food.                 Various their judgments were, but none believed             That he had slain him wittingly, nor saw             Th' infatuate men fate hov'ring o'er them all.             Then thus Ulysses, louring dark, replied.                 O dogs! not fearing aught my safe return             From Ilium, ye have shorn my substance close,             Lain with my women forcibly, and sought,             While yet I lived, to make my consort yours,             Heedless of the inhabitants of heav'n             Alike, and of the just revenge of man.             But death is on the wing; death for you all.                 He said; their cheeks all faded at the sound,             And each with sharpen'd eyes search'd ev'ry nook             For an escape from his impending doom,             Till thus, alone, Eurymachus replied.                 If thou indeed art he, the mighty Chief             Of Ithaca return'd, thou hast rehears'd             With truth the crimes committed by the Greeks             Frequent, both in thy house and in thy field.             But he, already, who was cause of all,             Lies slain, Antinos; he thy palace fill'd             With outrage, not solicitous so much             To win the fair Penelope, but thoughts             Far diff'rent framing, which Saturnian Jove             Hath baffled all; to rule, himself, supreme             In noble Ithaca, when he had kill'd             By an insidious stratagem thy son.             But he is slain. Now therefore, spare thy own,             Thy people; public reparation due             Shall sure be thine, and to appease thy wrath             For all the waste that, eating, drinking here             We have committed, we will yield thee, each,             Full twenty beeves, gold paying thee beside             And brass, till joy shall fill thee at the sight,             However just thine anger was before.                 To whom Ulysses, frowning stern, replied,             Eurymachus, would ye contribute each             His whole inheritance, and other sums             Still add beside, ye should not, even so,             These hands of mine bribe to abstain from blood,             Till ev'ry suitor suffer for his wrong.             Ye have your choice. Fight with me, or escape             (Whoever may) the terrours of his fate,             But ye all perish, if my thought be true.                 He ended, they with trembling knees and hearts             All heard, whom thus Eurymachus address'd.                 To your defence, my friends! for respite none             Will he to his victorious hands afford,             But, arm'd with bow and quiver, will dispatch             Shafts from the door till he have slain us all.             Therefore to arms--draw each his sword--oppose             The tables to his shafts, and all at once             Rush on him; that, dislodging him at least             From portal and from threshold, we may give             The city on all sides a loud alarm,             So shall this archer soon have shot his last.                 Thus saying, he drew his brazen faulchion keen             Of double edge, and with a dreadful cry             Sprang on him; but Ulysses with a shaft             In that same moment through his bosom driv'n             Transfix'd his liver, and down dropp'd his sword.             He, staggering around his table, fell             Convolv'd in agonies, and overturn'd             Both food and wine; his forehead smote the floor;             Woe fill'd his heart, and spurning with his heels             His vacant seat, he shook it till he died.             Then, with his faulchion drawn, Amphinomus             Advanced to drive Ulysses from the door,             And fierce was his assault; but, from behind,             Telemachus between his shoulders fix'd             A brazen lance, and urged it through his breast.             Full on his front, with hideous sound, he fell.             Leaving the weapon planted in his spine             Back flew Telemachus, lest, had he stood             Drawing it forth, some enemy, perchance,             Should either pierce him with a sudden thrust             Oblique, or hew him with a downright edge.             Swift, therefore, to his father's side he ran,             Whom reaching, in wing'd accents thus he said.                 My father! I will now bring thee a shield,             An helmet, and two spears; I will enclose             Myself in armour also, and will give             Both to the herdsmen and Eumus arms             Expedient now, and needful for us all.                 To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied.             Run; fetch them, while I yet have arrows left,             Lest, single, I be justled from the door.                 He said, and, at his word, forth went the Prince,             Seeking the chamber where he had secured             The armour. Thence he took four shields, eight spears,             With four hair-crested helmets, charged with which             He hasted to his father's side again,             And, arming first himself, furnish'd with arms             His two attendants. Then, all clad alike             In splendid brass, beside the dauntless Chief             Ulysses, his auxiliars firm they stood.             He, while a single arrow unemploy'd             Lay at his foot, right-aiming, ever pierced             Some suitor through, and heaps on heaps they fell.             But when his arrows fail'd the royal Chief,             His bow reclining at the portal's side             Against the palace-wall, he slung, himself,             A four-fold buckler on his arm, he fix'd             A casque whose crest wav'd awful o'er his brows             On his illustrious head, and fill'd his gripe             With two stout spears, well-headed both, with brass.                 There was a certain postern in the wall[103]             At the gate-side, the customary pass             Into a narrow street, but barr'd secure.             Ulysses bade his faithful swine-herd watch             That egress, station'd near it, for it own'd             One sole approach; then Agelas loud             Exhorting all the suitors, thus exclaim'd.                 Oh friends, will none, ascending to the door             Of yonder postern, summon to our aid             The populace, and spread a wide alarm?             So shall this archer soon have shot his last.                 To whom the keeper of the goats replied             Melanthius. Agelas! Prince renown'd!             That may not be. The postern and the gate[104]             Neighbour too near each other, and to force             The narrow egress were a vain attempt;             One valiant man might thence repulse us all.             But come--myself will furnish you with arms             Fetch'd from above; for there, as I suppose,             (And not elsewhere) Ulysses and his son             Have hidden them, and there they shall be found.                 So spake Melanthius, and, ascending, sought             Ulysses' chambers through the winding stairs             And gall'ries of the house. Twelve bucklers thence             He took, as many spears, and helmets bright             As many, shagg'd with hair, then swift return'd             And gave them to his friends. Trembled the heart             Of brave Ulysses, and his knees, at sight             Of his opposers putting armour on,             And shaking each his spear; arduous indeed             Now seem'd his task, and in wing'd accents brief             Thus to his son Telemachus he spake.                 Either some woman of our train contrives             Hard battle for us, furnishing with arms             The suitors, or Melanthius arms them all.                 Him answer'd then Telemachus discrete.             Father, this fault was mine, and be it charged             On none beside; I left the chamber-door             Unbarr'd, which, more attentive than myself,             Their spy perceived. But haste, Eumus, shut             The chamber-door, observing well, the while,             If any women of our train have done             This deed, or whether, as I more suspect,             Melanthius, Dolius' son, have giv'n them arms.                 Thus mutual they conferr'd; meantime, again             Melanthius to the chamber flew in quest             Of other arms. Eumus, as he went,             Mark'd him, and to Ulysses' thus he spake.                 Laertes' noble son, for wiles renown'd!             Behold, the traytor, whom ourselves supposed,             Seeks yet again the chamber! Tell me plain,             Shall I, should I superior prove in force,             Slay him, or shall I drag him thence to thee,             That he may suffer at thy hands the doom             Due to his treasons perpetrated oft             Against thee, here, even in thy own house?                 Then answer thus Ulysses shrewd return'd.             I, with Telemachus, will here immew             The lordly suitors close, rage as they may.             Ye two, the while, bind fast Melanthius' hands             And feet behind his back, then cast him bound             Into the chamber, and (the door secured)             Pass underneath his arms a double chain,             And by a pillar's top weigh him aloft             Till he approach the rafters, there to endure,             Living long time, the mis'ries he hath earned.                 He spake; they prompt obey'd; together both             They sought the chamber, whom the wretch within             Heard not, exploring ev'ry nook for arms.             They watching stood the door, from which, at length,             Forth came Melanthius, bearing in one hand             A casque, and in the other a broad shield             Time-worn and chapp'd with drought, which in his youth             Warlike Laertes had been wont to bear.             Long time neglected it had lain, till age             Had loosed the sutures of its bands. At once             Both, springing on him, seized and drew him in             Forcibly by his locks, then cast him down             Prone on the pavement, trembling at his fate.             With painful stricture of the cord his hands             They bound and feet together at his back,             As their illustrious master had enjoined,             Then weigh'd him with a double chain aloft             By a tall pillar to the palace-roof,             And thus, deriding him, Eumus spake.                 Now, good Melanthius, on that fleecy bed             Reclined, as well befits thee, thou wilt watch             All night, nor when the golden dawn forsakes             The ocean stream, will she escape thine eye,             But thou wilt duly to the palace drive             The fattest goats, a banquet for thy friends.                 So saying, he left him in his dreadful sling.             Then, arming both, and barring fast the door,             They sought brave Laertiades again.             And now, courageous at the portal stood             Those four, by numbers in the interior house             Opposed of adversaries fierce in arms,             When Pallas, in the form and with the voice             Approach'd of Mentor, whom Laertes' son             Beheld, and joyful at the sight, exclaim'd.                 Help, Mentor! help--now recollect a friend             And benefactor, born when thou wast born.                 So he, not unsuspicious that he saw             Pallas, the heroine of heav'n. Meantime             The suitors fill'd with menaces the dome,             And Agelas, first, Damastor's son,             In accents harsh rebuked the Goddess thus.                 Beware, oh Mentor! that he lure thee not             To oppose the suitors and to aid himself,             For thus will we. Ulysses and his son             Both slain, in vengeance of thy purpos'd deeds             Against us, we will slay thee next, and thou             With thy own head shalt satisfy the wrong.             Your force thus quell'd in battle, all thy wealth             Whether in house or field, mingled with his,             We will confiscate, neither will we leave             Or son of thine, or daughter in thy house             Alive, nor shall thy virtuous consort more             Within the walls of Ithaca be seen.                 He ended, and his words with wrath inflamed             Minerva's heart the more; incensed, she turn'd             Towards Ulysses, whom she thus reproved.                 Thou neither own'st the courage nor the force,             Ulysses, now, which nine whole years thou showd'st             At Ilium, waging battle obstinate             For high-born Helen, and in horrid fight             Destroying multitudes, till thy advice             At last lay'd Priam's bulwark'd city low.             Why, in possession of thy proper home             And substance, mourn'st thou want of pow'r t'oppose             The suitors? Stand beside me, mark my deeds,             And thou shalt own Mentor Alcimides             A valiant friend, and mindful of thy love.                 She spake; nor made she victory as yet             Entire his own, proving the valour, first,             Both of the sire and of his glorious son,             But, springing in a swallow's form aloft,             Perch'd on a rafter of the splendid roof.             Then, Agelas animated loud             The suitors, whom Eurynomus also roused,             Amphimedon, and Demoptolemus,             And Polyctorides, Pisander named,             And Polybus the brave; for noblest far             Of all the suitor-chiefs who now survived             And fought for life were these. The bow had quell'd             And shafts, in quick succession sent, the rest.             Then Agelas, thus, harangued them all.                 We soon shall tame, O friends, this warrior's might,             Whom Mentor, after all his airy vaunts             Hath left, and at the portal now remain             Themselves alone. Dismiss not therefore, all,             Your spears together, but with six alone             Assail them first; Jove willing, we shall pierce             Ulysses, and subduing him, shall slay             With ease the rest; their force is safely scorn'd.                 He ceas'd; and, as he bade, six hurl'd the spear             Together; but Minerva gave them all             A devious flight; one struck a column, one             The planks of the broad portal, and a third[105]             Flung right his ashen beam pond'rous with brass             Against the wall. Then (ev'ry suitor's spear             Eluded) thus Ulysses gave the word--                 Now friends! I counsel you that ye dismiss             Your spears at them, who, not content with past             Enormities, thirst also for our blood.                 He said, and with unerring aim, all threw             Their glitt'ring spears. Ulysses on the ground             Stretch'd Demoptolemus; Euryades             Fell by Telemachus; the swine-herd slew             Elatus; and the keeper of the beeves             Pisander; in one moment all alike             Lay grinding with their teeth the dusty floor.             Back flew the suitors to the farthest wall,             On whom those valiant four advancing, each             Recover'd, quick, his weapon from the dead.             Then hurl'd the desp'rate suitors yet again             Their glitt'ring spears, but Pallas gave to each             A frustrate course; one struck a column, one             The planks of the broad portal, and a third             Flung full his ashen beam against the wall.             Yet pierced Amphimedon the Prince's wrist,             But slightly, a skin-wound, and o'er his shield             Ctesippus reach'd the shoulder of the good             Eumus, but his glancing weapon swift             O'erflew the mark, and fell. And now the four,             Ulysses, dauntless Hero, and his friends             All hurl'd their spears together in return,             Himself Ulysses, city-waster Chief,             Wounded Eurydamas; Ulysses' son             Amphimedon; the swine-herd Polybus;             And in his breast the keeper of the beeves             Ctesippus, glorying over whom, he cried.                 Oh son of Polytherses! whose delight             Hath been to taunt and jeer, never again             Boast foolishly, but to the Gods commit             Thy tongue, since they are mightier far than thou.             Take this--a compensation for thy pledge             Of hospitality, the huge ox-hoof,             Which while he roam'd the palace, begging alms,             Ulysses at thy bounteous hand received.                 So gloried he; then, grasping still his spear,             Ulysses pierced Damastor's son, and, next,             Telemachus, enforcing his long beam             Sheer through his bowels and his back, transpierced             Leiocritus, he prostrate smote the floor.             Then, Pallas from the lofty roof held forth             Her host-confounding gis o'er their heads,             With'ring their souls with fear. They through the hall             Fled, scatter'd as an herd, which rapid-wing'd             The gad-fly dissipates, infester fell             Of beeves, when vernal suns shine hot and long.             But, as when bow-beak'd vultures crooked-claw'd[106]             Stoop from the mountains on the smaller fowl;             Terrified at the toils that spread the plain             The flocks take wing, they, darting from above,             Strike, seize, and slay, resistance or escape             Is none, the fowler's heart leaps with delight,             So they, pursuing through the spacious hall             The suitors, smote them on all sides, their heads             Sounded beneath the sword, with hideous groans             The palace rang, and the floor foamed with blood.             Then flew Leiodes to Ulysses' knees,             Which clasping, in wing'd accents thus he cried.                 I clasp thy knees, Ulysses! oh respect             My suit, and spare me! Never have I word             Injurious spoken, or injurious deed             Attempted 'gainst the women of thy house,             But others, so transgressing, oft forbad.             Yet they abstain'd not, and a dreadful fate             Due to their wickedness have, therefore, found.             But I, their soothsayer alone, must fall,             Though unoffending; such is the return             By mortals made for benefits received!                 To whom Ulysses, louring dark, replied.             Is that thy boast? Hast thou indeed for these             The seer's high office fill'd? Then, doubtless, oft             Thy pray'r hath been that distant far might prove             The day delectable of my return,             And that my consort might thy own become             To bear thee children; wherefore thee I doom             To a dire death which thou shalt not avoid.                 So saying, he caught the faulchion from the floor             Which Agelas had let fall, and smote             Leiodes, while he kneel'd, athwart his neck             So suddenly, that ere his tongue had ceased             To plead for life, his head was in the dust.             But Phemius, son of Terpius, bard divine,             Who, through compulsion, with his song regaled             The suitors, a like dreadful death escaped.             Fast by the postern, harp in hand, he stood,             Doubtful if, issuing, he should take his seat             Beside the altar of Hercan Jove,[107]             Where oft Ulysses offer'd, and his sire,             Fat thighs of beeves, or whether he should haste,             An earnest suppliant, to embrace his knees.             That course, at length, most pleased him; then, between             The beaker and an argent-studded throne             He grounded his sweet lyre, and seizing fast             The Hero's knees, him, suppliant, thus address'd.                 I clasp thy knees, Ulysses! oh respect             My suit, and spare me. Thou shalt not escape             Regret thyself hereafter, if thou slay             Me, charmer of the woes of Gods and men.             Self-taught am I, and treasure in my mind             Themes of all argument from heav'n inspired,             And I can sing to thee as to a God.             Ah, then, behead me not. Put ev'n the wish             Far from thee! for thy own beloved son             Can witness, that not drawn by choice, or driv'n             By stress of want, resorting to thine house             I have regaled these revellers so oft,             But under force of mightier far than I.                 So he; whose words soon as the sacred might             Heard of Telemachus, approaching quick             His father, thus, humane, he interposed.                 Hold, harm not with the vengeful faulchion's edge             This blameless man; and we will also spare             Medon the herald, who hath ever been             A watchful guardian of my boyish years,             Unless Philoetius have already slain him,             Or else Eumus, or thyself, perchance,             Unconscious, in the tumult of our foes.                 He spake, whom Medon hearing (for he lay             Beneath a throne, and in a new-stript hide             Enfolded, trembling with the dread of death)             Sprang from his hiding-place, and casting off             The skin, flew to Telemachus, embraced             His knees, and in wing'd accents thus exclaim'd.                 Prince! I am here--oh, pity me! repress             Thine own, and pacify thy father's wrath,             That he destroy not me, through fierce revenge             Of their iniquities who have consumed             His wealth, and, in their folly scorn'd his son.                 To whom Ulysses, ever-wise, replied,             Smiling complacent. Fear not; my own son             Hath pleaded for thee. Therefore (taught thyself             That truth) teach others the superior worth             Of benefits with injuries compared.             But go ye forth, thou and the sacred bard,             That ye may sit distant in yonder court             From all this carnage, while I give command,             Myself, concerning it, to those within.                 He ceas'd; they going forth, took each his seat             Beside Jove's altar, but with careful looks             Suspicious, dreading without cease the sword.             Meantime Ulysses search'd his hall, in quest             Of living foes, if any still survived             Unpunish'd; but he found them all alike             Welt'ring in dust and blood; num'rous they lay             Like fishes when they strew the sinuous shore             Of Ocean, from the grey gulph drawn aground             In nets of many a mesh; they on the sands             Lie spread, athirst for the salt wave, till hot             The gazing sun dries all their life away;             So lay the suitors heap'd, and thus at length             The prudent Chief gave order to his son.                 Telemachus! bid Euryclea come             Quickly, the nurse, to whom I would impart             The purpose which now occupies me most.                 He said; obedient to his sire, the Prince             Smote on the door, and summon'd loud the nurse.                 Arise thou ancient governess of all             Our female menials, and come forth; attend             My father; he hath somewhat for thine ear.                 So he; nor flew his words useless away,             For, throwing wide the portal, forth she came,             And, by Telemachus conducted, found             Ere long Ulysses amid all the slain,             With blood defiled and dust; dread he appear'd             As from the pastur'd ox newly-devoured             The lion stalking back; his ample chest             With gory drops and his broad cheeks are hung,             Tremendous spectacle! such seem'd the Chief,             Blood-stain'd all over. She, the carnage spread             On all sides seeing, and the pools of blood,             Felt impulse forcible to publish loud             That wond'rous triumph; but her Lord repress'd             The shout of rapture ere it burst abroad,             And in wing'd accents thus his will enforced.                 Silent exult, O ancient matron dear!             Shout not, be still. Unholy is the voice             Of loud thanksgiving over slaughter'd men.             Their own atrocious deeds and the Gods' will             Have slain all these; for whether noble guest             Arrived or base, they scoff'd at all alike,             And for their wickedness have, therefore, died.             But say; of my domestic women, who             Have scorn'd me, and whom find'st thou innocent?                 To whom good Euryclea thus replied.             My son! I will declare the truth; thou keep'st             Female domestics fifty in thy house,             Whom we have made intelligent to comb             The fleece, and to perform whatever task.             Of these, twice six have overpass'd the bounds             Of modesty, respecting neither me,             Nor yet the Queen; and thy own son, adult             So lately, no permission had from her             To regulate the women of her train.             But I am gone, I fly with what hath pass'd             To the Queen's ear, who nought suspects, so sound             She sleeps, by some divinity composed.                 Then answer, thus, Ulysses wise returned.             Hush, and disturb her not. Go. Summon first             Those wantons, who have long deserved to die.                 He ceas'd; then issued forth the ancient dame             To summon those bad women, and, meantime,             Calling his son, Philoetius, and Eumus,             Ulysses in wing'd accents thus began.                 Bestir ye, and remove the dead; command             Those women also to your help; then cleanse             With bibulous sponges and with water all             The seats and tables; when ye shall have thus             Set all in order, lead those women forth,             And in the centre of the spacious court,             Between the scull'ry and the outer-wall             Smite them with your broad faulchions till they lose             In death the mem'ry of their secret loves             Indulged with wretches lawless as themselves.                 He ended, and the damsels came at once             All forth, lamenting, and with tepid tears             Show'ring the ground; with mutual labour, first,             Bearing the bodies forth into the court,             They lodged them in the portico; meantime             Ulysses, stern, enjoin'd them haste, and, urged             By sad necessity, they bore all out.             With sponges and with water, next, they cleansed             The thrones and tables, while Telemachus             Beesom'd the floor, Eumus in that work             Aiding him and the keeper of the beeves,             And those twelve damsels bearing forth the soil.             Thus, order giv'n to all within, they, next,             Led forth the women, whom they shut between             The scull'ry and the outer-wall in close             Durance, from which no pris'ner could escape,             And thus Telemachus discrete began.                 An honourable death is not for these             By my advice, who have so often heap'd             Reproach on mine and on my mother's head,             And held lewd commerce with the suitor-train.                 He said, and noosing a strong galley-rope             To an huge column, led the cord around             The spacious dome, suspended so aloft             That none with quiv'ring feet might reach the floor.             As when a flight of doves ent'ring the copse,             Or broad-wing'd thrushes, strike against the net             Within, ill rest, entangled, there they find,             So they, suspended by the neck, expired             All in one line together. Death abhorr'd!             With restless feet awhile they beat the air,             Then ceas'd. And now through vestibule and hall             They led Melanthius forth. With ruthless steel             They pared away his ears and nose, pluck'd forth             His parts of shame, destin'd to feed the dogs,             And, still indignant, lopp'd his hands and feet.             Then, laving each his feet and hands, they sought             Again Ulysses; all their work was done,             And thus the Chief to Euryclea spake.                 Bring blast-averting sulphur, nurse, bring fire!             That I may fumigate my walls; then bid             Penelope with her attendants down,             And summon all the women of her train.                 But Euryclea, thus, his nurse, replied.             My son! thou hast well said; yet will I first             Serve thee with vest and mantle. Stand not here             In thy own palace cloath'd with tatters foul             And beggarly--she will abhor the sight.                 Then answer thus Ulysses wise return'd.             Not so. Bring fire for fumigation first.                 He said; nor Euryclea his lov'd nurse             Longer delay'd, but sulphur brought and fire,             When he with purifying steams, himself,             Visited ev'ry part, the banquet-room,             The vestibule, the court. Ranging meantime             His house magnificent, the matron call'd             The women to attend their Lord in haste,             And they attended, bearing each a torch.             Then gather'd they around him all, sincere             Welcoming his return; with close embrace             Enfolding him, each kiss'd his brows, and each             His shoulders, and his hands lock'd fast in hers.             He, irresistible the impulse felt             To sigh and weep, well recognizing all.