The Odyssey - Homer (good e books to read txt) 📗

a heart of steel were his.
But now dismiss us to our beds, that there,
Couched softly, we may welcome balmy sleep.”

He spake, and Argive Helen called her maids
To make up couches in the portico,
And throw fair purple blankets over them,
And tapestry above, and cover all
With shaggy cloaks. Forth from the palace halls
They went with torches, and made ready soon
The couches; thither heralds led the guests.
There in the vestibule Telemachus,
The hero, and with him the eminent son
Of Nestor, took their rest. Meanwhile the son
Of Atreus lay within an inner room
Of that magnificent pile, and near to him
The glorious lady, long-robed Helen, slept.
But when at length the daughter of the Dawn,
The rosy-fingered Morning, brought her light,
Then Menelaus, great in battle, rose,
Put on his garments, took his trenchant sword,
And, having hung it on his shoulder, laced
The shapely sandals to his shining feet,
And issued from his chamber like a god
In aspect. Near Telemachus he took
His seat, and calling him by name he spake:⁠—

“What urgent cause, my brave Telemachus,
Brings thee to sacred Lacedaemon o’er
The breast of the great ocean? Frankly say,
Is it a private or a public need?”

And thus discreet Telemachus replied:⁠—
“Atrides Menelaus, reared by Jove,
Ruler of nations! I am come to ask
News of my father, if thou knowest aught.
My heritage is wasting; my rich fields
Are made a desolation. Enemies
Swarm in my palace, and from day to day
Slaughter my flocks and slow-paced horned herds;
My mother’s suitors they, and measureless
Their insolence. And therefore am I come
To clasp thy knees, and pray thee to relate
The manner of my father’s sorrowful death
As thou hast seen it with thine eyes, or heard
Its story from some wandering man⁠—for sure
His mother brought him forth to wretchedness
Beyond the common lot. I ask thee not
To soften aught in the sad history
Through tenderness to me, or kind regard,
But tell me plainly all that thou dost know;
And I beseech thee, if at any time
My father, good Ulysses, brought to pass
Aught that he undertook for thee in word
Or act while ye were in the realm of Troy,
Where the Greeks suffered sorely, bear it now
In mind, and let me have the naked truth.”

Then Menelaus of the amber locks
Drew a deep sigh, and thus in answer said:⁠—
“Heavens! they would climb into a brave man’s bed,
These craven weaklings. But as when a hart
Has hid her newborn suckling fawns within
The lair of some fierce lion, and gone forth
Herself to range the mountainsides and feed
Among the grassy lawns, the lion comes
Back to the place and brings them sudden death,
So will Ulysses bring a bloody fate
Upon the suitor crew. O father Jove,
And Pallas, and Apollo! I could wish
That now, with prowess such as once was his
When he, of yore, in Lesbos nobly built,
Rising to strive with Philomela’s son,
In wrestling threw him heavily, and all
The Greeks rejoiced, Ulysses might engage
The suitors. Short were then their term of life,
And bitter would the nuptial banquet be.
Now for the questions thou hast put, and craved
From me a true reply, I will not seek
To pass them by with talk of other things,
Nor yet deceive thee, but of all that once
Was told me by the Ancient of the Deep,
Whose words are truth, I shall keep nothing back.

“In Egypt still, though longing to come home,
The gods detained me; for I had not paid
The sacrifice of chosen hecatombs,
And ever do the gods require of us
Remembrance of their laws. There is an isle
Within the billowy sea before you reach
The coast of Egypt⁠—Pharos is its name⁠—
At such a distance as a ship could pass
In one whole day with a shrill breeze astern.
A sheltered haven lies within that isle,
Whence the good ships go forth with fresh supplies
Of water. There the gods constrained my stay
For twenty days, and never in that time
Blew favoring winds across the waters, such
As bear the galley over the great deep.
Now would our stores of food have been consumed,
Now would the courage of my men have died,
Had not a goddess pitied me, and come
To my relief, by name Eidothea, born
To the great Proteus, Ancient of the Deep.
For she was moved by my distress, and came
To me while I was wandering alone,
Apart from all the rest. They through the isle
Roamed everywhere from place to place, and, pinched
With hunger, threw the hook for fish. She came,
And, standing near, accosted me and said:⁠—

“ ‘Stranger, thou art an idiot, or at least
Of careless mood, or else art willingly
Neglectful, and art pleased with suffering,
That thou dost linger in this isle so long
And find no means to leave it, while the hearts
Of thy companions faint with the delay.’

“She spake, and I replied: ‘Whoe’er thou art,
goddess, let me say, not willingly
I linger here. I surely must have sinned
Against the immortal dwellers of high heaven;
But tell me⁠—for the gods know all things⁠—who
Of all the immortals holds me windbound here,
Hindering my voyage; tell me also how
To reach my home across the fishy deep.’

“I ended, and the glorious goddess said
In answer: ‘Stranger, I will truly speak;
The deathless Ancient of the Deep, whose words
Are ever true, Egyptian Proteus, oft
Here makes his haunt. To him are fully known⁠—
For he is Neptune’s subject⁠—all the depths
Of the great ocean. It is said I owe
To him my birth. If him thou canst insnare
And seize, he will disclose to thee thy way
And all its distances, and tell thee how
To reach thy home across the fishy deep;
And further will reveal, if so he choose,
O foster-child of Jove, whate’er of good
Or ill has in thy palace come to pass,
While thou wert wandering long and wearily.’

“So said the goddess, and I spake again:⁠—
‘Explain by what device to snare and hold
The aged deity, lest he foreknow
Or else suspect our purpose and escape.
’Twere hard for mortals to constrain a god.’

“I ended, and the glorious goddess thus
Made answer: ‘When the climbing sun has reached
The middle heaven, the Ancient of the Deep,
Who ne’er deceives, emerges from the waves,
And, covered with the dark scum of the sea,
Walks forth, and in a cavern vault lies down.
Thither fair Halosydna’s progeny,
The sea-calves from the hoary ocean, throng,
Rank with the bitter odor of the brine,
And slumber near him. With the break of day
I will conduct thee thither and appoint
Thy place,