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Then she came down from her upper room, and while doing so she considered whether she should keep at a distance from her husband and question him, or whether she should at once go up to him and embrace him. When, however, she had crossed the stone floor of the hall, she sat down opposite Odysseus by the fire, [90] against the wall at right angles to that by which she had entered, while Odysseus sat near one of the bearing-posts, looking upon the ground, and waiting to see what his wife would say to him when she saw him. For a long time she sat silent and as one lost in amazement. At one moment she looked him full in the face, [95] but then again directly, she was misled by his shabby clothes and failed to recognize him, till Telemachus began to reproach her and said:

“Mother—but you are so hard that I cannot call you by such a name—why do you keep away from my father in this way? Why do you not sit by his side and begin talking to him and asking him questions? [100] No other woman could bear to keep away from her husband when he had come back to her after twenty years of absence, and after having gone through so much; but your heart always was as hard as a stone.”

Circumspect Penelope answered, [105] “My son, I am so lost in astonishment that I can find no words in which either to ask questions or to answer them. I cannot even look him straight in the face. Still, if he really is Odysseus come back to his own home again, we shall get to understand one another better by and by, for there are signs [ sēmata] [110] with which we two are alone acquainted, and which are hidden from all others.”

Much-enduring noble Odysseus smiled at this, and said to Telemachus, “Let your mother put me to any proof she likes; she will make up her mind about it presently. [115] She rejects me for the moment and believes me to be somebody else, because I am covered with dirt and have such bad clothes on; let us, however, consider what we had better do next. When one man has killed another in a district [ dēmos], even though he was not one who would leave many friends to take up his quarrel, the man who has killed him [120] must still say good bye to his friends and flee the country; whereas we have been killing the stay of a whole city, and all the picked youth of Ithaca. I would have you consider this matter.”

Thespirited Telemachus answered, “Look to it yourself, father,” “for they say [125] you are the wisest counselor in the world, and that there is no other mortal man who can compare with you. We will follow you with right good will, nor shall you find us fail you in so far as our strength holds out.”

Odyssey. Homer. Samuel Butler (Translator). London. 1898.

Current edition Experimental

English (Butler, rev. Nagy et al., 2020) (OCR draft) (English) (English (Butler, rev. Nagy et al., 2020))

Provisional text from uncorrected OCR; expect errors.

Editions (1)

Ὀδύσσεια Perseus (Homer. The Odyssey, Volume 1-2. Murray, A. T. (Augustus Taber), editor. London: William Heinmann; New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1919.) — 23.85 focus

ὣς φαμένη κατέβαινʼ ὑπερώϊα· πολλὰ δέ οἱ κῆρ

ὥρμαινʼ, ἢ ἀπάνευθε φίλον πόσιν ἐξερεείνοι,

ἦ παρστᾶσα κύσειε κάρη καὶ χεῖρε λαβοῦσα.

ἡ δʼ ἐπεὶ εἰσῆλθεν καὶ ὑπέρβη λάϊνον οὐδόν,

ἕζετʼ ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐναντίη, ἐν πυρὸς αὐγῇ,

τοίχου τοῦ ἑτέρου· ὁ δʼ ἄρα πρὸς κίονα μακρὴν

ἧστο κάτω ὁρόων, ποτιδέγμενος εἴ τί μιν εἴποι

ἰφθίμη παράκοιτις, ἐπεὶ ἴδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν.

ἡ δʼ ἄνεω δὴν ἧστο, τάφος δέ οἱ ἦτορ ἵκανεν·

ὄψει δʼ ἄλλοτε μέν μιν ἐνωπαδίως ἐσίδεσκεν,

ἄλλοτε δʼ ἀγνώσασκε κακὰ χροῒ εἵματʼ ἔχοντα.

Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·

μῆτερ ἐμή, δύσμητερ, ἀπηνέα θυμὸν ἔχουσα,

τίφθʼ οὕτω πατρὸς νοσφίζεαι, οὐδὲ παρʼ αὐτὸν

ἑζομένη μύθοισιν ἀνείρεαι οὐδὲ μεταλλᾷς;

οὐ μέν κʼ ἄλλη γʼ ὧδε γυνὴ τετληότι θυμῷ

100

ἀνδρὸς ἀφεσταίη, ὅς οἱ κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας

ἔλθοι ἐεικοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·

σοὶ δʼ αἰεὶ κραδίη στερεωτέρη ἐστὶ λίθοιο.

τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·

τέκνον ἐμόν, θυμός μοι ἐνὶ στήθεσσι τέθηπεν,

105

οὐδέ τι προσφάσθαι δύναμαι ἔπος οὐδʼ ἐρέεσθαι

οὐδʼ εἰς ὦπα ἰδέσθαι ἐναντίον. εἰ δʼ ἐτεὸν δὴ

ἔστʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ἦ μάλα νῶϊ

γνωσόμεθʼ ἀλλήλων καὶ λώϊον· ἔστι γὰρ ἡμῖν

σήμαθʼ, ἃ δὴ καὶ νῶϊ κεκρυμμένα ἴδμεν ἀπʼ ἄλλων.

110

ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,

αἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·

Τηλέμαχʼ, ἦ τοι μητέρʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔασον

πειράζειν ἐμέθεν· τάχα δὲ φράσεται καὶ ἄρειον.

νῦν δʼ ὅττι ῥυπόω, κακὰ δὲ χροῒ εἵματα εἷμαι,

115

τοὔνεκʼ ἀτιμάζει με καὶ οὔ πω φησὶ τὸν εἶναι.

ἡμεῖς δὲ φραζώμεθʼ ὅπως ὄχʼ ἄριστα γένηται.

καὶ γάρ τίς θʼ ἕνα φῶτα κατακτείνας ἐνὶ δήμῳ,

ᾧ μὴ πολλοὶ ἔωσιν ἀοσσητῆρες ὀπίσσω,

φεύγει πηούς τε προλιπὼν καὶ πατρίδα γαῖαν·

120

ἡμεῖς δʼ ἕρμα πόληος ἀπέκταμεν, οἳ μέγʼ ἄριστοι

κούρων εἰν Ἰθάκῃ· τὰ δέ σε φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα.

τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·

αὐτὸς ταῦτά γε λεῦσσε, πάτερ φίλε· σὴν γὰρ ἀρίστην

μῆτιν ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους φάσʼ ἔμμεναι, οὐδέ κέ τίς τοι

125

ἄλλος ἀνὴρ ἐρίσειε καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων.

ἡμεῖς δʼ ἐμμεμαῶτες ἅμʼ ἑψόμεθʼ, οὐδέ τί φημι

ἀλκῆς δευήσεσθαι, ὅση δύναμίς γε πάρεστιν.

Translations (8)

Odyssey Perseus (Homer. The Odyssey, Volume 1-2. Murray, A. T. (Augustus Taber), translator. London: William Heinmann; New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1919.) — 23.85 focus

85 So saying, she went down from the upper chamber, and much her heart pondered whether she should stand aloof and question her dear husband, or whether she should go up to him, and clasp and kiss his head and hands. But when she had come in and had passed over the stone threshold, she sat down opposite Odysseus in the light of the fire 90 beside the further wall; but he was sitting by a tall pillar, looking down, and waiting to see whether his noble wife would say aught to him, when her eyes beheld him. Howbeit she sat long in silence, and amazement came upon her soul; and now with her eyes she would look full upon his face, and now again 95 she would fail to know him, for that he had upon him mean raiment. But Telemachus rebuked her, and spoke, and addressed her: “My mother, cruel mother, that hast an unyielding heart, why dost thou thus hold aloof from my father, and dost not sit by his side and ask and question him? 100 No other woman would harden her heart as thou dost, and stand aloof from her husband, who after many grievous toils had come back to her in the twentieth year to his native land: but thy heart is ever harder than stone.” Then wise Penelope answered him: 105 “My child, the heart in my breast is lost in wonder, and I have no power to speak at all, nor to ask a question, nor to look him in the face. But if in very truth he is Odysseus, and has come home, we two shall surely know one another more certainly; 110 for we have signs which we two alone know, signs hidden from others.” So she spoke, and the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus smiled, and straightway spoke to Telemachus winged words: “Telemachus, suffer now thy mother to test me in the halls; presently shall she win more certain knowledge. 115 But now because I am foul, and am clad about my body in mean clothing, she scorns me, and will not yet admit that I am he. But for us, let us take thought how all may be the very best. For whoso has slain but one man in a land, even though it be a man that leaves not many behind to avenge him, 120 he goes into exile, and leaves his kindred and his native land; but we have slain those who were the very stay of the city, far the noblest of the youths of Ithaca . Of this I bid thee take thought.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Do thou thyself look to this, dear father; for thy 125 counsel, they say, is the best among men, nor could any other of mortal men vie with thee. As for us, we will follow with thee eagerly, nor methinks shall we be wanting in valor, so far as we have strength.”

Odyssey Perseus (Homer. The Odyssey: rendered into English prose for the use of those who cannot read the original. Butler, Samuel, 1835-1902, translator. Revised by Timothy Power and Gregory Nagy. London: A.C. Fifield, 1900.) — 23.85 focus

85 On this she came down from her upper room, and while doing so she considered whether she should keep at a distance from her husband and question him, or whether she should at once go up to him and embrace him. When, however, she had crossed the stone floor of the room, she sat down opposite Odysseus by the fire, against the wall at right angles to that by which she had entered, while Odysseus sat near one of the bearing-posts, looking upon the ground, and waiting to see what his wife would say to him when she saw him. For a long time she sat silent and as one lost in amazement. At one moment she looked him full in the face, but then again directly, she was misled by his shabby clothes and failed to recognize him, till Telemakhos began to reproach her and said:

97 "Mother - but you are so hard that I cannot call you by such a name - why do you keep away from my father in this way? Why do you not sit by his side and begin talking to him and asking him questions? No other woman could bear to keep away from her husband when he had come back to her after twenty years of absence, and after having gone through so much; but your heart always was as hard as a stone."

104 Penelope answered, "My son, I am so lost in astonishment that I can find no words in which either to ask questions or to answer them. I cannot even look him straight in the face. Still, if he really is Odysseus come back to his own home again, we shall get to understand one another better by and by, for there are tokens [ sêmata] with which we two are alone acquainted, and which are hidden from all others."

111 Odysseus smiled at this, and said to Telemakhos, "Let your mother put me to any proof she likes; she will make up her mind about it presently. She rejects me for the moment and believes me to be somebody else, because I am covered with dirt and have such bad clothes on; let us, however, consider what we had better do next. When one man has killed another in a dêmos, even though he was not one who would leave many friends to take up his quarrel, the man who has killed him must still say good bye to his friends and flee the country; whereas we have been killing the stay of a whole city, and all the picked youth of Ithaca . I would have you consider this matter."

English (William Cullen Bryant, 1873) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (William Cullen Bryant, 1873)) — 23.85 focus

She spake, and from the royal bower went down,

100

Uncertain whether she should stand aloof

And question there her lord, or haste to him

And clasp his hands in hers and kiss his brow.

But having passed the threshold of hewn stone,

Entering she took her seat right opposite

105

Ulysses, in the full glow of the fire,

Against the other wall. Ulysses sat

Beside a lofty column with his eyes

Cast down, and waiting for his high-born wife

To speak when she had seen him. Long she sat

110

In silence, for amazement overpowered

Her senses. Sometimes, looking in his eyes,

She saw her husband there, and then again,

Clad in those sordid weeds, she knew him not.

Then spake Telemachus, and chid her thus:-

115

"Mother, unfeeling mother! hard of heart

Art thou; how else couldst thou remain aloof?

How keep from taking, at my father's side,

Thy place, to talk with him, and question him?

No other wife could bring herself to bear

120

Such distance from a husband, just returned

After long hardships, in the twentieth year

Of absence, to his native land and her.

Mother! thy heart is harder than a stone."

And thus the sage Penelope replied:

125

"Dear child, my faculties are overpowered

With wonder, and I cannot question him,

Nor even speak to him, nor fix my looks

Upon his face. But if it be indeed

Ulysses, and he have returned, we soon

130

Shall know each other; there are tokens known

To both of us, to none but him and me."

She ended, and the much-enduring chief

Ulysses, smiling at her words, bespake

Telemachus at once, in winged words :

135

"Suffer thy mother, O Telemachus, To prove me; she will know me better soon.

My looks are sordid, and my limbs are wrapped

In tattered raiment, therefore does she think

Meanly of me, and cannot willingly

Believe that I am he. But let us now

140

Consider what most wisely may be done.

He who hath slain, among a tribe of men,

A single one with few to avenge his death,

Flees from his kindred and his native land;

But we have slain the champions of the realm,

145

The flower of all the youth of Ithaca.

Therefore, I pray thee, think what shall be done."

And then discreet Telemachus replied :

"Look thou to that, dear father; for they say

That thou of all mankind wert wont to give

150

The wisest counsels. None of mortal birth

In this was deemed thy peer. We follow thee

With cheerful hearts; nor will our courage fail,

I think, in aught that lies within our power."

English (Alexander Pope, 1726, ed. Watson, 1858) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Alexander Pope, 1726, ed. Watson, 1858)) — 23.85 focus

But with alternate joy and fear descends;

At every step debates, her lord to prove,

Or, rushing to his arms, confess her love!

Then, gliding through the marble valves, in state,

Oppos'd before the shining fire she sate.

The monarch, by a column high enthron'd,

His eye withdrew, and fix'd it on the ground;

Curious to hear his queen the silence break:

Amaz'd she sate, and impotent to speak;

O'er all the man her eyes she rolls in vain,

Now hopes, now fears, now knows, then doubts again.

At length Telemachus: "Oh, who can find

A woman like Penelope unkind?

100

Why thus in silence? why, with winning charms

Thus slow to fly with rapture to his arms?

Stubborn the breast that with no transport glows,

When twice ten years are pass'd of mighty woes:

To softness lost, to spousal love unknown,

105

The gods have form'd that rigid heart of stone!"

"O my Telemachus!" (the queen rejoin'd,)

"Distracting fears confound my labouring mind;

Powerless to speak, I scarce uplift my eyes,

Nor dare to question; doubts on doubts arise.

110

Oh deign he, if Ulysses, to remove

These boding thoughts, and what he is, to prove!"

Pleas'd with her virtuous fears, the king replies:

"Indulge, my son, the cautions of the wise;

Time shall the truth to sure remembrance bring:

115

This garb of poverty belies the king;

No more. This day our deepest care requires,

Cautious to act what thought mature inspires.

If one man's blood, though mean, distain our hands,

The homicide retreats to foreign lands;

120

By us, in heaps th' illustrious peerage falls,

Th' important deed our whole attention calls."¹

"Be that thy care," (Telemachus replies ;)

"The world conspires to speak Ulysses wise;

For wisdom all is thine! lo, I obey;

125

And dauntless follow where you lead the way;

Nor shalt thou in the day of danger find

Thy coward son degenerate lag behind."

English (Thomas Hobbes, 1667, ed. Molesworth 1843) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (Thomas Hobbes, 1667, ed. Molesworth 1843)) — 23.85 focus

Then down she went, consulting in her breast,

Whether at distance it were best to try,

Or else directly go unto the guest,

And there receive and kiss him presently.

But when into the hall she enter'd was,

Where sitting was Ulysses, in the light

Of a good fire, she went and took a place

That was to where he sat just opposite.

Ulysses look'd o' th' ground, expecting what

His wife would say, but long time she spake not;

But gazing on her husband, mute she sate,

As one that's in a trance, and has no thought:

But by-and-bye, surveying him, she thought

'Twas he; but seeing him so ill-array'd,

Her mind was chang'd; she thought that he 'twas not.

Telemachus his mother chid, and said,

Mother, hard-hearted mother, and unkind,

Why sit you at such distance from my father,

And have so little care to know his mind?

When many questions you should ask him rather.

100

Another woman would not keep off so

From her own husband that away had staid

Twenty years long, and suffer'd so much woe,

But at their meeting somewhat would hare said.

Son, said she then, I am astonish'd so,

105

I cannot speak, nor look him in the face;

But whether he Ulysses be or no,

I shall be certain in a little space,

For we have signs between us of our own,

Which we shall soon know one another by,

110

That to none living but ourselves are known.

Ulysses to his son then smilingly

Said, Let, Telemachus, your mother try me,

Perhaps she know me better will anon.

The cause why now so little she sets by me,

115

Is that I have ill-favour'd garments on.

But now let you and I look well about.

Who kills one man, unless great friends he have,

Must leave his kin and country, and go out;

But we have kill'd both many men and brave,

120

Therefore, consider what is to be done.

Father, said he, let that be your own care;

So wise as you are, men say there is none.

Our hands to do your pleasure ready are.

English (George Chapman, 1667, ed. Hooper 1857) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (George Chapman, 1667, ed. Hooper 1857)) — 23.85 focus

This said, down they went;

130

When, on the Queen's part, divers thoughts were spent,

If, all this given no faith, she still should stand

Aloof, and question more; or his hugg'd hand

And loved head she should at first assay

With free-given kisses. When her doubtful way

135

Had pass'd the stony pavement, she took seat

Against her husband, in the opposite heat

The fire then cast upon the other wall.

Himself set by the column of the hall,

His looks cast downwards, and expected still

140

When her incredulous and curious will

To shun ridiculous error, and the shame

To kiss a husband that was not the same,

Would down, and win enough faith from his sight.

She silent sat, and her perplexed plight

145

Amaze encounter'd. Sometimes she stood clear

He was her husband; sometimes the ill wear

His person had put on transform'd him so

That yet his stamp would hardly current go.

Her son, her strangeness seeing, blamed her thus:

150

"Mother, ungentle mother! Tyrannous!

In this too curious modesty you show.

Why sit you from my father, nor bestow

A word on me t' enquire and clear such doubt

As may perplex you? Found man ever out

155

One other such a wife that could forbear

Her loved lord's welcome home, when twenty year

In infinite suff'rance he had spent apart.

No flint so hard is as a woman's heart."

"Son," said she, "amaze contains my mind,

160

Nor can I speak and use the common kind

Of those enquiries, nor sustain to see

With opposite looks his countenance. If this be

My true Ulysses now return'd, there are

Tokens betwixt us of more fitness far

165

To give me argument he is my lord;

And my assurance of him may afford

My proofs of joy for him from all these eyes

With more decorum than object their guise

To public notice." The much-sufferer brake

170

In laughter out, and to his son said: "Take

Your mother from the prease, that she may make

Her own proofs of me, which perhaps may give

More cause to the acknowledgments that drive

Their show thus off. But now, because I go

175

So poorly clad, she takes disdain to know

So loath'd a creature for her loved lord.

Let us consult, then, how we may accord

The town to our late action. Some one slain

Hath made the all-left slaughterer of him fain

180

To fly his friends and country; but our swords

Have slain a city's most supportful lords,

The chief peers of the kingdom, therefore see

You use wise means t' uphold your victory."

"See you to that, good father," said the son,

185

"Whose counsels have the sovereign glory won

From all men living. None will strive with you,

But with unquestion'd garlands grace your brow,

To whom our whole alacrities we vow

In free attendance. Nor shall our hands leave

190

Your onsets needy of supplies to give

All the effects that in our powers can fall."

English (William Cowper, 1791, ed. Southey) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (William Cowper, 1791, ed. Southey)) — 23.85 focus

So saying, she left her chamber, musing much

In her descent, whether to interrogate

Her lord apart, or whether to imprint,

At once, his hands with kisses and his brows.

O'erpassing light the portal-step of stone

100

She enter'd. He sat opposite, illumed

By the hearth's sprightly blaze, and close before

A pillar of the dome, waiting with eyes

Downcast, till viewing him, his noble spouse

Should speak to him; but she sat silent long,

105

Her faculties in mute amazement held.

By turns she rivetted her eyes on his,

And, seeing him so foul attired, by turns

She recognized him not; then spake her son

Telemachus, and her silence thus reproved.

110

My mother! ah my hapless and my most

Obdurate mother! wherefore thus aloof

Shunn'st thou my father, neither at his side

Sitting affectionate, nor uttering word?

Another wife lives not who could endure

115

Such distance from her husband new-return'd

To his own country in the twentieth year,

After much hardship; but thy heart is still

As ever, less impressible than stone.

To whom Penelope discrete replied.

120

I am all wonder, O my son! my soul

Is stunn'd within me; power to speak to him

Or to interrogate him have I none,

Or even to look on him; but if indeed

He be Ulysses, and have reach'd his home,

125

I shall believe it soon, by proof convinced

Of signs, known only to himself and me.

She said; then smiled the Hero toil-inured,

And in wing'd accents thus spake to his son.

Leave thou, Telemachus, thy mother here

130

To sift and prove me; she will know me soon

More certainly; she sees me ill-attired

And squalid now; therefore she shews me scorn,

And no belief hath yet that I am he.

But we have need, thou and myself, of deep

135

Deliberation. If a man have slain

One only citizen, who leaves behind

Few interested to avenge his death,

Yet flying he forsakes both friends and home;

But we have slain the noblest Princes far

140

Of Ithaca, on whom our city most

Depended; therefore, I advise thee, think!

Him, prudent, then answer'd Telemachus.

Be that thy care, my father! for report

Proclaims thee shrewdest of mankind, with whom

145

In ingenuity may none compare.

Lead thou; to follow thee shall be our part

With prompt alacrity; nor shall, I judge,

Courage be wanting to our utmost force.

English (H. B. Cotterill, 1911) (OCR draft) Experimental (English (H. B. Cotterill, 1911)) — 23 focus

ODYSSEY BOOK XXIII

LAUGHING for joy now hurried the nurse to the upper apartment,

Bringing her lady the news that Odysseus was there in his homestead.

Onward with tottering knees and with feet unsteady she stumbled,

Till, at the head of the sleeper arriving, she called to her mistress:

"Wake, my belov'd! wake, Penelopeia my child! Thou shalt see now,

Yea with thine eyes thou shalt see, what every day thou hast longed for.

Come is Odysseus !—is here in his home, whence long he was vanished !

Slain are all of the arrogant suitors who troubled his homestead,

Wasting the wealth of the house and treating his son with oppression."

Her forthwith gave answer the wise-souled Penelopeia:

"Nancy, dear mother, the gods have driven thee mad! An immortal

Ofttimes maketh a fool of the wise—yea, even the wisest—

Ay and the one that is foolish he guides in the path of discretion.

Surely a god hath unbalanced thy mind that was steady aforetime.

Why dost thou mock me and add to the grief that is heavy within me,

Chattering thus so wildly and waking me out of my slumber

While so softly imprisoned it held me and shaded mine eyelids?

Never I slept thus sound from the day that Odysseus departed

Sailing for Ilion, city of doom, name ne'er to be mentioned.

Go now, get thee away and return to the women's apartment!

Verily were it another of all of the maids that attend me,

Bringing reports like these and waking me out of my slumber,

Rudely enough I had sent her away and had bid her betake her

Back to her chamber—but thou..! it is only thy age that protects thee."

Then once more made answer the dear nurse Eurycleia:

"Nancy, I am mocking thee not, dear child! I assure thee in earnest

Come is Odysseus and here is arrived at his home, as I told thee.

He was the stranger—the guest whom all at the banquet insulted.

Telemachus long since was aware that his father was present,

Yet with a manly discretion the plans of his sire he revealed not,

Waiting for vengeance to fall on the heads of the arrogant suitors."

Thus as the old nurse spake, in her gladness Penelopeia

Sprang from her couch and embraced her, and tears fell fast from her eyelids ;

Then she uplifted her voice and with swift-winged words she addressed her :

"Come, dear mother, I beg thee to tell me and give me assurance,

Should he in sooth be arrived and be here in his home as thou sayest,

How was he able to lay strong hands on the insolent suitors,

Being alone, while ever they keep right many together?"

Then once more made answer the dear nurse Eurycleia :

"Nothing I saw—knew nothing—and nothing I heard but a groaning

Made by the dying. We sat in the strong-built room in a corner

Frozen with fear, and the door close-fitting was shut of the chamber,

Till that I heard one calling me forth from the women's apartment,

Even thy son, prince Telemachus for his father had sent him.

So to Odysseus I came, and I found him amidst of the slaughtered

Standing; and round him was covered the hard-stamped floor with the corpses

Lying the one on the other. I ween that thy soul had exulted

Hadst thou beheld him besmeared with the filth and the gore as a lion.

Now they're lying together, anigh to the gate of the courtyard,

All in a heap, and the master is fuming the palace with sulphur,

Setting aflame great braziers of coal; and he sent me to call thee.

Follow me now, that ye both in a heaven of happiness enter,

Where your hearts shall rejoice, forgetting their former afflictions.

Now is accomplished the thing that for long long years thou hast hoped for :

Lo, he is come—he is here— he is safe in his home—and has found thee

Safe in his halls, and his son; while those who had wickedly wronged him,

Even the suitors he wreaked his revenge on them all in his palace."

Her then in answer addressed these words wise Penelopeia :

"Nancy, dear mother, refrain thee at present from vaunting and laughter!

Well dost thou know how welcome he were to the whole of his household,

All of us, chiefly indeed to myself and the son that I bare him.

Yet—it is never and never the truth, this tale that thou tellest.

Navy, 'twas a god immortal that slaughtered the high-born suitors,

Wroth at their grievous and insolent pride and their infamous actions,

Seeing they treated alike all earth-born men with dishonour,

Good no less than the bad—yea every one who approached them;

So for their folly and madness they suffered. But dead is Odysseus;

Lost was his way to the land of Achaea, and lost was his life too."

Then did the dear old nurse make answer and thus she addressed her :

"Nancy but, my child, what word from the door of thy lips hath escaped thee,

While thou affirmst that thy lord, who is here at the hearth of his homestead,

Ne'er shall return! Ay, truly, thy heart was incredulous alway!

Well, I will tell thee besides of a proof infallibly certain,

Even the wound which once by a boar's white tusk was inflicted.

This as I bathed him I spied—and I eagerly turned me towards thee

Wishing to speak; but he, laying his hand on my mouth to prevent it,

Would not permit me to utter a word, in his wisdom and foresight.

Nancy, come, follow me now! I will venture my life on my tidings.

Should I deceive thee at all, by a death most pitiful slay me!"

Her once more gave answer the wise-souled Penelopeia :

"Ah, dear mother, 'tis hard, how great soever thy wisdom,

Over the plans and the counsels to watch of the gods everlasting.

Well then, now let us go to my son. I am fain to behold them,

These dead men, these suitors and him moreover that slew them."

Then from her room she descended, and deeply she pondered in spirit

Whether to hold her aloof from her lord and to test him with questions

Or to approach and embrace him and kiss him on hands and on forehead.

So, when at length she had entered the hall and had stept from the door-stone,

Fronting Odysseus she seated herself, in the light of a brazier,

Close to the opposite wall; and with eyes cast down he was sitting

Nigh to a pillar that rose to the roof; and he waited expectant,

Hoping his beautiful wife would speak when she saw him before her.

Long while silent she sat, with her spirit amazed and bewildered;

Now with her eyes fixed full on his face she was earnestly gazing,

Now she was doubting, beholding him clad in a beggarly raiment.

Then spake Telemachus and with words of reproach he addressed her :

"Mother—and yet no mother of mine, for thy heart is unloving—

Wherefore now dost thou hold thee aloof from my father, nor gladly

Seat thee beside him and bid him to speak and to answer thy questions?

Ne'er was a wife like thee, with a heart thus hardened within her,

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So as to turn from a husband who after unnumber'd afflictions

Came in the twentieth year to his home and the land of his fathers.

Thus it was ever for harder than stone is the heart in thy bosom!"

Him then in answer addressed these words wise Penelopeia :

"Nancy but, my child, have patience—for dead is the spirit within me ;

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Neither to utter a word am I able, nor ask him a question,

Nancy, nor to look in his face. If in truth it is he, as thou sayest,

Even Odysseus returned to his home, we can verily better

Learn it than thus, and be surer the one of the other; for we twain

Tokens possess that we kept to ourselves and hidden from others."

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Hearing her words with a smile, long-suffering godlike Odysseus

Suddenly turned to his son, and with swift-winged words he addressed him :

"Telemachus, now leave us alone in the hall, that thy mother

Test me; for thus she will soon be aware of the truth and confess it.

Now I am covered with filth and am clothed in a beggarly raiment,

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So with dishonour she treats me and says I am never thy father.

Meanwhile, come, let us think how best we shall act in the future.

He that hath happened to slay one person alone in a people,

One who was able to leave not many behind to avenge him,

Flieth from kith and from kin and from native land as an exile;

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We.. 'twas the stay of the city we slew 'twas the best of the princes

Here in the Ithacan land. It is this that I bid thee consider."

Him sage Telemachus addressing in turn gave answer:

"See to the matter thyself, dear father; for thine is the wisdom

Said to be greatest on earth, and with thee in the giving of counsel

125

None might hope to compete no other of men that be mortal.

All of us others will eagerly follow thee. Ne'er shalt thou find us

Lacking in will to support thee, if only the power is present."

Him then in answer addressed these words deep-plotting Odysseus:

"Well now, come, I will tell thee the plan that I hold to be wisest.

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First then, all of you cleanse you with water and clothe you in doublets,

Also the maidens command to array them in festal apparel.

Then let the godlike bard with his lute's loud-echoing music

Give us the lead for the dance in a mirthful melodious measure,

So that it sound as a wedding to those outside of the palace,

135

Whether to folk that shall pass on the road, or to neighbours around us.

Thus no word shall be bruited abroad in the town that the suitors

Lie here slaughtered before we shall get us away to the country

Unto the farm in the midst of the forest; and there we can counsel

How to avail us of luck, if the Father Olympian grant it."

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Thus did he speak, and they listened attent to his words and obeyed them.

Firstly they bathed them in water and cast fresh tunics around them;

Also the women did on their attire; and the godlike minstrel,

Taking his hollow harp, in the depths of their bosoms excited

Yearning for sweet-voiced song and the peerless pleasure of dancing.

145

Then to the sound of their feet did the spacious mansion reëcho

While that the fair-zoned maidens and men were making them merry;

Hearing the which spake many a one outside of the palace :

"Sure, she is married at last, our lady of many a wooer!

Pitiful creature, unable to wait for the love of her girlhood,

150

Faithfully keeping on guard at his palace until he arrived here!”

Thus spake many a one; but they knew not how it had happened.

Now great-hearted Odysseus was back in his home, and the house-dame

Eurynomé brought water to bathe him and oil to anoint him,

Also apparel to clothe him withal, both mantle and tunic.

155

Over him then great beauty was shed by the goddess Athene :

Taller and stronger she made him in aspect, and down from his head fell

Clustering thickly the locks of his hair as the flower hyacinthine.

Even as gold o'er silver is poured by an artist—a craftsman

Taught in his art by the god Hephaestus and Pallas Athene

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Manifold skill, and of beauty is every work that he fashions,

Thus did she pour forth grace on the shoulders and head of Odysseus;

So as he stept from the bath he was like an immortal in semblance.

Then he reseated himself on the chair from the which he had risen,

Placing himself in the front of his wife; and he spake to her, saying:

165

“Nancy, good lady, a heart more hard, more cruel, than thine is

Never a woman received from the gods who inhabit Olympus;

Ne'er was a wife like thee, with a heart thus hardened within her,

So as to turn from a husband who after unnumber'd afflictions

Came in the twentieth year to his home and the land of his fathers.

170

Nurse, go strew me my bed! I will sleep by myself; I will forthwith

Lay me to rest—for the heart in her bosom is surely of iron."

Him then in answer addressed these words wise Penelopeia :

"Nancy, good man, it is neither because I am proud or disdainful,

Nor am I dazed. Right well I recall thee (if thou be Odysseus)

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Such as thou wert when from here in a long-oared vessel thou sailedst.

Go now, Eurycleia, and strew him the strong-made bedstead

Here outside of the room that he built for himself as his chamber.

Bring ye the bedstead forth; then lay soft bedding upon it;

Cover it over with fleeces and wrappers and glistering blankets."

180

Thus did she speak as a test for her husband ; and much was Odysseus

Angered thereat, and he turned to his own true wife and addressed her :

"Verily, wife, this word thou hast spoken is grievously cruel.

Who hath removed it—the bed that I built? 'Twere difficult truly

E'en for a man right skilful, unless some deity helped him.

185

Though for a god 'twere easy to move it wherever he listed,

Never a mortal that liveth, not e'en in the prime of his manhood,

Out of its place could heave it with handspikes. Great is the secret

Touching that fine-wrought bed—for I made it myself and in private.

Once was a long-leaved olive that stood inside the enclosure,

190

Thriving and grown to the full ; and its stem was as thick as a pillar.

Round it I built me a chamber and laboured until it was finished,

Making a structure of stones close-set; and I carefully roofed it;

Also I gave it a door well-fitting and firmly compacted.

Next from the long-leaved olive I lopped off all of the brushwood,

195

Whittled the bark of the stump right down to the root, and I planed it

Evenly, cutting it straight to the line with the skill of a master.

Then with an auger I bored it and fashioned it into a bed-post.

Thus I began, and I wrought me the bed, and, until it was finished,

Carved it, and richly with ivory, silver, and gold I adorned it.

200

Then to the frame hide thongs I attached bright-coloured with purple.

There now! Such is the secret I tell thee as token. I know not

Whether my bed stands still as it stood, O wife, or if long since

Some man moved it away, with the trunk cut off at the bottom."

Thus as he spake were loosened her knees and the heart in her bosom,

205

Since to herself she confessed that the token was sure that he gave her.

Bursting in tears, straightway to Odysseus she ran and embraced him,

Casting her arms on his neck and kissing his head and exclaiming :

"Gaze not upon me in anger, Odysseus! In all thou hast shown thee

Wisest of men—and thou knowst that the gods have sent us affliction,

210

Jealous to see us abiding in happiness one with the other,

Joying in youth and hoping to reach eld's threshold together.

Wherefore now I beseech thee to feel not wroth and indignant

Only because, when I saw thee at first, not thus I embraced thee.

Ever and ever again hath my heart in the depths of my bosom

215

Shuddered with fear lest any with tales might haply deceive me,

One of the many that come with an evil and gainful intention.

Navy, e'en Argive Helen, the daughter of Zeus the Almighty,

Ne'er to a stranger had given her love and her tender embraces

Had she but known that again by the warlike sons of Achaea

220

Back to her home she was doomed to be brought and the land of her fathers.

True, to committing the shameless deed some deity urged her;

True, she had never foreseen in her spirit the end of her folly,

End so fearful that first on ourselves brought mourning and sorrow.

Now I believe! for thou giv'st me a token unerring—the secret

225

Touching the bed—our bed—that was ne'er by a mortal beholden

Saving by thee and by me, and by one of my women attendants,

Actoris—one that my sire, when I came as a bride to thy palace,

Gave me—and ever the door of thy strong-built chamber she guarded.

Yea, I believe! thou hast conquered my heart, however unloving!"

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PATTEN WILSON.
THE RECOGNITION OF ODYSSEUS BY HIS WIFE

Thus as she spake still more she excited his yearning for wailing.

Clasping his true sweet wife to his bosom he wept as he held her.

Welcome as sight of the land, when at last it appeareth to swimmers

Whose good ship, o'erwhelmed in the midst of the sea by Poseidon,

Drifts as a wreck and is tossed by the wind and the mountainous billows,

235

While some few, in the hope to escape from the grey salt water,

Swim for the land, and with brine are thickly encrusted their bodies,

Then on the shore right gladly they step, and they find them in safety,

Thus, when she saw him, she welcomed with gladness Odysseus her husband,

Nor from his neck for a moment her fair white arms did she loosen.

240

Yea, on their weeping had risen the morning, the roseate-fingered,

Save for the friendly device of the grey-eyed goddess Athene :

Night in her outmost realm she delayed long-lingering; held back

Morning the golden-enthron'd at the stream of the Ocean, and bade her

Yoke not her swift-paced horses, the bringers to mortals of daylight,

245

Lampus and Phaethon, chariot-steeds of the goddess of morning.

Then at the last spake thus to his wife deep-plotting Odysseus:

"Not at the end, O wife, do I deem us of every labour.

Much is remaining of toil, yea, measureless travail, and hardships

Many and great—all which I am destined to do and to suffer,

250

E'en as foretold me the spirit of Teiresias the diviner,

Yea, on the day I descended and entered the mansion of Hades,

Seeking to hear of a way of return for myself and my comrades.

Now come, wife, let us lay us abed—'tis the season already

There to repose us and seek the delicious enjoyment of slumber."

255

Him forthwith gave answer the wise-souled Penelopeia:

"Yea, most surely thy bed shall be ready whenever thy spirit

Longeth to rest, for at last by the will and the favour of heaven

Here to thy well-built home thou art come and the land of thy fathers.

Still—as thou spakest thereof and a deity stirr'd thy remembrance—

260

Tell me, I pray, of the travail to come; for I ween I shall learn it

Later, and knowing it now were sure no greater misfortune."

Her then in answer addressed these words deep-plotting Odysseus:

"Nancy, good lady, but why thus all impatiently urge me,

Bidding me speak? Well, come, I will tell thee, nor try to conceal it.

265

Verily little thy soul will rejoice; yea also myself too

Little am joyed, for to many a city of mortals he bade me

Wander again from my home, with a well-shaped oar on my shoulder,

Till to a people I come which never hath heard of the ocean,

Yea to a people that mix no salt with the food that they live on ;

270

Neither hath any a ship, with the cheeks red-painted, beholden,

Neither hath knowledge of oars which serve as the wings of a vessel.

Also he gave me a sign most certain the which I will tell thee.

Whensoever it haps that a chance wayfarer that meets thee

Saith 'tis a winnowing fan that thou bearst on thy glistering shoulder,

275

Fixing the oar in the ground I shall leave it for thus he commanded.

Then to Poseidon the king I shall offer a goodly oblation,

Even a male of the swine and a male of the herd and the sheepfold,

Then turn homeward again, and many an offering holy

Slay to the deathless gods who inhabit the infinite heaven,

280

Each one after the other. At last shall a death from the ocean,

Such as of deaths is the mildest, befall thee and gently remove thee,

Weary and worn, in a smooth old age; and around thee thy people

Happy shall live. All this he foretold would have a fulfilment."

Him forthwith gave answer the wise-souled Penelopeia :

285

"Should but the gods vouchsafe to thy life such happier ending,

Surely they grant thee a hope to escape at the last from affliction."

Thus in the hall these twain held converse one with the other.

Meantime Eurynomé and the nurse made ready the bedstead,

Laying thereon soft wraps, by the light of the radiant torches.

290

Then, when the strong-built bed was prepared and the labour was ended,

Back to her room went Eurycleia to lay her to slumber,

While that the other, the maiden attendant who guarded the chamber,

Guided the way for her lord and her mistress, holding a pine-torch

Unto the chamber she led them and then she returned; and with gladness

295

These two came once more to the rites of the bed as aforetime.

Soon now Telemachus and the cowherd and also the swineherd

Stayed their feet from the dance, and bidding the women to cease too

Laid them to rest for the night in the shadowy hall of the palace.

Now when the twain had delighted in love and its tender endearments,

300

Then to the pleasure of talking they turned, and all they recounted.

First by the fairest of women was told what woes she had suffered,

Forced to behold in the palace the ruinous horde of the suitors

Coming to woo her and slaying the fat-fed sheep and the oxen,

Many and many a head, and emptying many a wine-cask.

305

Next did Odysseus descended from Zeus tell all of the sorrows

Brought on his foes, and how he had toiled and had suffered afflictions—

All he related; and hearing it greatly she joyed, nor did slumber

Fall on her eyelids before he had finished the whole of the story.

Firstly he told how landing he sacked the Ciconian city,

310

Then to the rich-soiled land of the Eaters of Lotus was wafted.

Next of the deeds of the Cyclops he spake, and how he avenged him,

Blinding the pitiless monster for eating his valiant comrades.

Then how Aeolus' island he reached, and was kindly entreated,

Yea and was helped to return to his well-loved home, but to reach it

315

Yet was forbidden by Fate, and suddenly seized by a tempest,

Grievously groaning, again he was borne to the home of the fishes.

Then how Telepylus of the Laestrygonian people

Next he had reached—where perished his well-greaved mates and his vessels

One of them only escaping, the black-hulled ship of Odysseus.

320

Also he told of the infinite guile and the magic of Circe.

Then how, seeking to visit the mouldering mansion of Hades,

There to consult with the spirit of Teiresias the diviner,

Over the ocean he sailed in his well-manned ship, and beheld there

All of his comrades of old, and the mother that bore him and reared him.

325

Then how maddened he listed the sweet-voiced song of the Sirens;

Then of the Wandering Rocks he related and dreadful Charybdis,

Yea and of Scylla, from whom unscathed none ever escapeth.

Then how, after the kine of the Sun were slain by his comrades,

Struck by the sulphurous bolt of the Father who speaketh in thunder

330

Perished his swift-winged ship and perished his trusty companions,

All of them all but himself; and alone he escaped from destruction.

Then to the isle Ogygian come and the goddess Calypso,

How he was held by the nymph, in her yearning to make him her husband,

Long in her hollow caves; and she cherished him kindly and promised

335

Even to make him immortal and ageless for ever and ever;

Still did she never persuade him nor soften the heart in his bosom.

Then to the folk Phaeacian come through many a peril,

How he was kindly received and was honoured like an immortal,

Yea and was sent on a ship to the well-loved land of his fathers

340

Laden with many a treasure of bronze and of gold and of raiment.

This was the last he related before sweet slumber o'ercame him,

Slumber that loosens the limbs and loosens the cares of the spirit.

Then by the friendly device of the grey-eyed goddess Athene

(After she knew it for sure in the depths of her heart that Odysseus

345

Now had delighted in love and in sleep to his soul's satisfaction)

Out of the Ocean the early-arising, the golden-enthronéd

Goddess appeared who bringeth to mortals the day; and the hero

Rose from his soft-strewn bed, and he spake to his wife and enjoined her :

"Truly enough in the past, O wife, did we suffer affliction,

350

Both of us thou with thy sorrow unending because I returned not

Weeping at home, while Zeus and the other immortals had bound me

Fast in misfortune, despite of my longings, afar from my homeland.

Now, since heaven hath brought us again to the raptures of wedlock,

See thou attend as of old to the wealth we possess in the palace

355

While, for the sheep and the cattle consumed by the arrogant suitors,

Many another as spoil I shall capture, and others the chieftains

Freely will give, till full once more are all of my farmyards.

Natheless, now I shall go to my farm in the midst of the forest.

There I shall visit my dear good father, who endlessly mourns me.

360

Touching thyself.. thou art prudent and wise but I tell thee my wishes :

Swiftly will spread a report, so soon as the sun is arisen,

Telling the fate of the men—these suitors I slew in the palace.

Wherefore unto thy chamber ascend with thy maiden attendants.

There keep seated, nor show thee to any that pass, and address none."

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Thus as he spake on his shoulders he buckled his beautiful armour.

Then he awakened his son and the cowherd and also the swineherd,

Bidding them each lay hand on a weapon of war to defend them.

Nor did they fail to obey, and they fully equipped them in harness.

Then they unbolted a door and they ventured them forth, and Odysseus

370

Led them. Already was light on the earth, but the goddess Athene

Hid them in night, and she swiftly conducted them out of the city.

New Alexandria Commentaries

Gregory Nagy

After the killing of the suitors, Eurykleia rushes to the bedroom of Penelope, waking her up. The queen has slept through it all—the first good night’s sleep she has had in the longest time, she admits. Eurykleia goes on to tell Penelope that Odysseus has really returned and has killed the suitors, but the patient wife will need one more test, to make it perfectly certain that she has recovered her husband. The sēma ‘sign’ of the royal bed that once was theirs and will be theirs once again can now seal their perfect mutual understanding.

draft js image error Eurykleia waking Penelope (1773). Print by Thomas Burke, after a painting by Angelika Kauffmann. Image via the British Museum.

source

Homer Odyssey 23.85

Samuel Butler (Translator)

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ODYSSEY BOOK XXIII

PATTEN WILSON.
THE RECOGNITION OF ODYSSEUS BY HIS WIFE

New Alexandria Commentaries

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Search the Perseus Catalog for:

Search the Perseus Catalog for:

Current edition Experimental

ODYSSEY BOOK XXIII

PATTEN WILSON. THE RECOGNITION OF ODYSSEUS BY HIS WIFE

New Alexandria Commentaries

Stable identifiers

PATTEN WILSON.
THE RECOGNITION OF ODYSSEUS BY HIS WIFE