ODYSSEY BOOK I
SING, O Muse, of the man so wary and wise, who in far lands
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Wandered whenas he had wasted the sacred town of the Trojans.
Many a people he saw and beheld their cities and customs,
Many a woe he endured in his heart as he tossed on the ocean,
Striving to win him his life and to bring home safely his comrades.
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Ah but he rescued them not, those comrades, much as he wished it.
Ruined by their own act of infatuate madness they perished,
Fools that they were—who the cows of the sun-god, lord Hyperion,
Slaughtered and ate; and he took from the men their day of returning.
Sing—whence-ever the lay—sing, Zeus-born goddess, for us too!
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Now were all of the rest of the Greeks who had 'scaped from destruction
Safely at home and secure from the dangers of war and the ocean,
All but the one, whom yearning in vain for his wife and his homeland
Still did the beautiful goddess, the sea-nymph lady Calypso,
Hold in her hollow caves, with a longing to make him her husband.
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Ay and at last, when the year in the slow revolution of seasons
Came, in the which, as the gods had ordained, he returned to his country,
Ithaca's isle, e'en then was he nowise free from his troubles,
Though once more with his own; and the gods were touched with compassion,
All but Poseidaon, who was ever unceasingly angered
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Raging at godlike Odysseus and keeping him far from his homeland.
Now was he gone to revisit the far-off Aethiop people—
Aethiop people that dwell wide-sundered, furthest of mortals,
Some where sinks Hyperion to rest, some where he ariseth.
Here he expected of rams and of oxen a solemn oblation,
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Here he rejoiced as he sat at the feast. But the other immortals
Unto the mansion of Zeus the Olympian gathered together.
Then in the midst brake silence the Father of men and immortals,
Since in the depths of his heart he remembered the noble Aegisthus
Slaughtered by King Agamemnon's son, far-famous Orestes;
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Mindful of him these words he addressed to the gods everlasting:
"Verily! how these mortals of earth give blame to the heaven!
Evil is sent by the gods, they affirm! It is they that in folly,
Ay in the madness of folly, o'erleaping their destiny, seek it.
Thus did Aegisthus, in spite of his fate predestined, in madness
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Marry the wife of Atrides and murdered her lord at his coming.
Fully he knew of the doom that impended for this we foretold him,
Sending him Hermes, the keen-eyed Slayer of Argus, to warn him
Neither to murder the man nor his wife to solicit as suitor :
Else shall Orestes repay for his father a terrible vengeance
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After the days of his youth, when he learneth to long for his homeland.
Such was the warning of Hermes, but nowise heeded Aegisthus
Well-meant counsel—and now he hath paid all reckonings fully."
Him forthwith gave answer the grey-eyed goddess Athene:
"Father of Gods, O mighty Cronion, the highest of Monarchs!
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Truly he lies o'erwhelmed by a doom that he merited richly.
Thus too perish whoever of men such deed shall accomplish !
Ah but the heart in my bosom is rent for the wileful Odysseus.
Hard is his fate: long years doth he ceaselessly suffer affliction
Far from his home on a sea-girt isle: 'tis the navel of ocean,
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Even this isle well-wooded, whereon hath dwelling a goddess,
Daughter of Atlas, the wizard of bale, who of every ocean
Knoweth the watery depths, and alone upholdeth the pillars
Soaring aloft and keeping the earth and heaven asunder.
This is the god whose daughter a wretched and sorrowing mortal
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Keepeth, and ever with soft and with flattering words of endearment
Charms him, to make him forgetful of Ithaca's isle ; and Odysseus
Yearns to behold once more but the smoke rise eddying upward
Out of the land of his birth—and he longeth to die. But within thee
All unmoved is thy spirit, Olympian. What! did Odysseus
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Ne'er by the ships of the Greeks do honour to thee with oblations,
There, on the Trojan plain? Then why so wroth at the man, Zeus?"
Her then in turn gave answer the Father who gathers the storm-clouds:
"Nay but my child, what word from the door of thy lips hath escaped thee !
How am I likely to cease to remember the godlike Odysseus,
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Him who in mind all mortals excels and in giving oblation
Unto the gods everlasting who dwell in the infinite heaven?
No—but Poseidaon, Earth-girdler, stubbornly rageth,
Angered because of his son, by Odysseus bereft of his eyesight,
Even that equal of gods the immense Polyphemus, a Cyclops
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Greater than all of the others. Thoösa the nymph was his mother,
Daughter of Phorcys the lord of the barren expanses of ocean.
She in the hollow caves of the sea held tryst with Poseidon.
Hence to Odysseus it haps that, albeit the King Earth-shaker
Slayeth him not, yet he maketh him wander afar from his homeland.
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Come now, all of us here— let us straight take counsel together
How he shall once more win to his home; and Poseidon will surely
Cease from his wrath, for he ne'er will be able alone to oppose us,
Setting at nought and defying the will of the other immortals."
Him then again gave answer the grey-eyed goddess Athene:
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"Father of all of us, mighty Cronion, the highest of Monarchs !
Seems it a thing well-pleasing to all of the blessed immortals
Thus to permit to return to his home wise-hearted Odysseus,
Then let us bid Hermeias the messenger, Slayer of Argus,
Speedily winging his flight to the far Ogygian island,
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Bring to the fair-tressed nymph our will's immutable verdict,
Even that patient Odysseus return and arrive at his homeland.
Now for myself I shall visit the Ithacan island, if haply
Rousing his son still more I can light in his bosom the courage
Unto a meeting to summon the long-haired lords of Achaea,
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Yea and a warning to utter to all of the suitors, who slaughter
Sheep of his thick-thronged folds and his shambling crook-horned cattle.
Then as his guide will I bring him to Sparta and Pylos the sandy,
Tidings to hear, if he can, of the homeward return of his father.
Hence too honour and fame shall he win in the land of the living."
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These words uttered she bound to her ankles the beautiful sandals,
Golden, immortal, that carry her over the waters of ocean
Swift as the blast of a storm, and across earth's boundless expanses.
Then with her powerful spear bronze-bladed, of terrible keenness,
Weighty, enormous and strong—wherewith in the ranks of the battle
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Vanquisheth all that she hateth that daughter of Zeus the Almighty—
Flashing she fell to the earth from the glittering heights of Olympus
Down, till on Ithacan land she alit by the porch of Odysseus,
E'en by the courtyard door, with the spear in her hand, and she stood there
Likened in form to a stranger, to Mentes, Taphian chieftain.
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Then was she quickly aware of the arrogant suitors, who haply
Under the porch of the palace at draughts their minds were amusing,
Seated on skins of the cows they had slaughtered themselves for a banquet.
Busily flitting around were pages attendant and henchmen:
Some in the bowls were mixing together the wine and the water,
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Others with sponges porous and soft were washing the tables,
Setting them forth, while others apportioned the plentiful messes.
Godlike Telemachus was the first of them all to perceive her.
Grievously troubled at heart he was sitting amidst of the suitors,
Picturing how peradventure his valiant father from somewhere
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Suddenly coming and driving the suitors in rout from the palace
Honour again might win as the lord of his own possessions.
Dreaming thereon as he sat with the suitors, he noticed Athene.
Straight to the portal he went, for he felt sore vexed in his spirit
Seeing a stranger so long at the door, and, whenas he arrived there,
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Grasping her right and taking the bronzen spear from the goddess,
Opened in greeting his lips, and with swift-winged words he addressed her :
"Hail, O stranger! With us thou art sure of a welcome; and later,
After partaking of food, thou'lt tell us if aught thou art needing."
These words spoken, he turned and was followed by Pallas Athene.
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Unto the high-roofed mansion he led her, and stepping within it
Leaned on the shaft of a pillar the spear he was bearing, and fixed it
Into a stand bright-polished wherein were resting the others,
Many and many a spear of the valiant-hearted Odysseus;
Then on a chair, outspreading the cover of linen, he set her:
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Richly adorned was the chair, and below for the feet was a footstool.
Close to it set he a seat for himself rich-broidered, withdrawing
Far from the suitors, in fear that the stranger annoyed by the uproar
Loathing for food might feel, with that insolent rabble about him;
Ay and he also was fain of his long-lost father to ask him.
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Water for washing of hands by a maiden was brought in an ewer
Beautiful, golden, and over a basin of silver she poured it,
Bidding him wash; and she stationed a polished table beside him.
Then did a grave house-dame bring bread and lay it before him
Lavishly adding thereto of her stores full many a dainty.
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Carrying platters aloft came also the carver and offered
Dishes of various meats; and golden goblets he gave them,
Ofttimes filling the which passed hither and thither the henchman.
Now to the hall came crowding the arrogant suitors, and straightway
All of them sat them in order adown on the couches and armchairs.
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Soon was the water for washing of hands poured out by the henchman,
Baskets of wheaten bread up-piled were brought by the maidens
While that the youths wreathed high with the foaming liquor the wine-bowls.
Then did they stretch forth hands to the food that was lying before them
Till, when at last they had lost all longing for meat and the wine-cup,
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Came to the mind of the suitors the thought of a different pleasure,
Even of singing and dancing—for such is the crown of a banquet.
So, when a herald had handed a beautiful harp to the singer
Phemius (ever unwilling he sang, compelled by the suitors),
Unto the sounds of his harping his exquisite voice he uplifted.
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Telemachus meanwhile spake low to the goddess Athene,
Holding his head right close, to be noticed of none of the others:
"List, dear stranger!—for sure at my words thou'lt never be angered—
Such are the pleasures of such !—harp-playing and dancing! No wonder,
Seeing they eat the possessions of others, nor fear the avenger!
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Eat the possessions of him whose whitening bones peradventure
Rot in the rain on the land or roll in the waves of the ocean!
Were they to see him return some day to the Ithacan homeland,
All of them straight to the gods would pray to be lighter in running
Rather than richer endowed with the treasures of gold and of garments.
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Nay, it is vain ! he is dead of a pitiful death, nor is longer
Comfort remaining, whoever of earth-born mortals denies it
Saying he cometh again—since dead is the day of his coming.
Come now tell me a thing that I ask thee and clearly explain it :
Who art thou? Whence dost thou come? Tell too of thy city, thy parents.
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Whose is the vessel whereon thou art come? How haps it that sailors
Brought thee to Ithacan land? What folk did they boast to belong to,
Seeing, methinks, it was never on foot that thou hither arrivedst?
One thing further relate me exactly, for fain will I know it :
Art thou a traveller new to the land, or a friend of my father—
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Guest peradventure? for such came ofttimes unto his homestead,
Many a one, while yet he remained in the land of the living.”
Him then in turn gave answer the grey-eyed goddess Athene:
"Well, I will tell thee of all that thou askest and truly relate it.
Mentes such is my name. Of a wise-souled father I boast me,
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Anchialus, and myself am the prince of the Taphian sea-folk.
Now am I come to a port of thy land with my vessel and comrades
Sailing the wine-dark deep on my way to a city of strangers,
Tempsa; for copper I seek, and my cargo is glittering iron.
Yonder my ship on the side of the country afar from the city
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Lieth in Reithron's port, by the wood-clothed Neïan headland.
Yes, it is true—we can boast to be guest-friends one of another
Even from days long past. If thou doubt'st, go ask of the grandsire,
Hero Laertes. They say that he now no more to the city
Cometh, but living afar in the uplands suffers affliction
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Sole with an ancient crone who attends to his eating and drinking,
Placing before him his food when exhaustion cometh upon him
Weariedly creeping about on the sloping knoll of his vineyard.
Now I am here for they said he was home once more in his country,
Even thy father; but heaven, it seemeth, hath hindered his coming.
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Natheless never on earth has he perished, the godlike Odysseus:
Still he is living, methinks, mid the broad expanses of ocean,
Held on a sea-girt isle, where hostile people retain him,
Savages, forcing him all unwillingly still to remain there.
Nay, I will venture to speak as a prophet—for deep in my bosom
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Heaven hath planted a thought that I feel to be sure of fulfilment,
Though I am neither at all a diviner or augur unerring—
Verily not much longer afar from his well-loved homeland
Still shall he stay, not e'en though fetters of iron constrain him:
Sure he will plan his escape—such master of many devices.
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Now come tell me a thing that I ask thee and clearly explain it,
Whether indeed (as thy stature proclaims) thou art child of Odysseus.
Marvellous both of thy head and thy beautiful eyes is the likeness
Unto the man that I knew when we oft held converse together,
Ere he embarked for the land of the Trojans, whither so many
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Others, chiefs of the Argives, in hollow vessels departed.
Since then ne'er did I see him again, nor was seen by Odysseus."
Her sage Telemachus addressing in turn gave answer:
"Well, Sir stranger, the truth will I tell thee and clearly relate it.
Ever my mother hath called me the child of Odysseus. For my part
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How can I know? Not the wisest of sons can discover his father.
Would that my fortune had made me the child of a happier mortal,
Son of a man whom age finds living in peace in his homestead!
Elsewise heaven hath will'd it: the most ill-fated of all men,
He, as they say, is my sire. Thus far can I answer thy question."
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Him then again gave answer the grey-eyed goddess Athene:
"Surely for thee is the heaven no nameless race in the future
Keeping in store for a son so worthy of Penelopeia.
Now come, tell me a thing that I ask thee and clearly explain it :
What doth this banqueting mean? and this crowd? Why needful thy presence ?
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Hold they a wedding? or bout? No club-collation it seemeth:
Such is the insolent licence in which they appear to indulge them
Banqueting here in thy hall! Just cause for a man to be angered,
Were but a sensible person to see such shameful proceeding!"
Her sage Telemachus addressing in turn gave answer:
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"Since, O stranger, thou fain wouldst hear of this matter and learn it,
Once did the house of my sire seem like to be rich and be blameless, —
Like to remain what it was while here in his home he was living.
Other, alas, was the will of immortals who plotted his ruin.
Lo, they have made him to vanish—as utterly vanished hath no man
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Ever before. Nay, e'en for his death ne'er thus had I sorrowed,
Had he but met it amidst of his mates in the land of the Trojans,
Or in the arms of his friends, when he wound to an ending the warfare.
Then had the hosts of Achaea erected a tomb to his honour;
Yea and for me for his son he had left great glory behind him.
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Ah but the spirits of storm to a death inglorious swept him,
Vanished, unseen and unheard of; and nothing but mourning and anguish
Me he bequeathed! Nor now do I sorrow and make lamentation
Only for him; for the gods send other and grievous afflictions.
All of the chief of the men who as princes rule in the islands,
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Samos and Dulichium and the woodlands rich of Zacynthus,
Ay and as many besides as in rock-bound Ithaca lord it,
All come wooing my mother and wasting the wealth of the homestead.
She dares neither reject their hateful proposals of marriage,
Nor can she end it; and thus do the men, consuming, devouring,
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Ruin my home—me too will they soon o'erwhelm in its ruin."
Then in exceeding displeasure again spake Pallas Athene:
"Nay by the gods, right sorely thou need'st that the absent Odysseus
Come to thee quickly and lay strong hands on the impudent suitors!
Would that I saw him this moment in front of the door of the palace
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Suddenly stand—with his helmet and shield and a couple of lances—
Such as he was in the days when mine eyes first lighted upon him
Making him merry and quaffing his wine in the hall of my homestead,
Newly from Ephyra come—from the town of the Mermerid Ilus.
Even to such far land had he sailed in his swift-winged vessel
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Seeking a drug right deadly of which he was fain to possess him—
Poison, to smear on the tips of his bronze-shod arrows; but Ilus
Gave it him not, for he shrank from the wrath of the gods everlasting.
Yet from my father he gat it, who loved him in marvellous fashion.
O that he came—e'en such an Odysseus—to visit the suitors,
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Bringing on all of them speedy perdition and nuptials of anguish!
Nay but we know not the truth; on the knees of the gods it is lying,
Whether he ever shall come, or shall come no more, to avenge him
Here in the halls of his home; but do thou take thought, I exhort thee,
How to eject from the hall of thy palace this rabble of suitors.
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Now mark well what I say, and give it thy earnest attention.
Summon to-morrow to come to a council the princely Achaeans;
Make to them all an announcement and call on the gods to be witness.
Order the suitors from here to disperse each one to his homestead;
While for thy mother—if truly her heart be enamoured of wedlock,
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Send her again to her home—to the house of her powerful father.
There can her parents arrange for the wedding and settle the presents,
All of the wealth that is wont with a well-loved daughter to follow.
Now for thyself—such plan I suggest: 'twere wise to accept it.
Manning with twice ten rowers a vessel—thy goodliest galley—
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Start on the quest for thy sire, who so long is afar and unheard of.
Haply an earth-born man shall inform thee, or haply shall Rumour,
Daughter of Zeus, who on earth is the busiest bringer of tidings.
Firstly betake thee to Pylos, the godlike Nestor to question.
Thence seek Sparta, the court of the fair-haired prince Menelaus:
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He was the last to return of the bronzen-coated Achaeans.
Shouldst thou be told of thy father as living and homeward returning,
Surely for one year more thou'lt bear with the waste of thy substance.
Should they report him as perished and gone from the land of the living,
Quickly return, and regaining the well-loved home of thy fathers
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Straightway build him a tomb, and funeral offerings offer
Many and rich, as is meet, and thy mother bestow on a husband.
Then, when at last these things are duly fulfilled and accomplished,
Hold thou counsel at once with the thoughts and the feelings within thee
How to be quit of the suitors, and here in the hall of thy homestead
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Slay them by craft or by open assault. No more it beseems thee
Childish thoughts to indulge, for thy age no longer is childish.
Surely thou know'st of the fame that was won by the noble Orestes:
How he is praised by the nations for killing his father's assassin,
Crafty Aegisthus, who murdered his sire, great King Agamemnon.
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Also do thou, dear lad, as in form thou art comely and stalwart,
Show thee courageous and win thee a name in the age that is coming!
Now I am fain to descend once more to my swift-winged vessel,
Where are waiting my men, and, I doubt not, chafe at my absence.
Take thou thought for thyself and attend to the counsel I gave thee."
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Her sage Telemachus addressing in turn gave answer:
"Verily, stranger, with kindly intent these words thou hast uttered,
Like to a father advising his son. I shall never forget them.
Yet, I bursts, remain, though eager to haste on thy journey!
Stay till refreshed with a bath, and the heart in thy bosom contented,
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Back to thy ship thou returnest with gladness, bearing a present
Rare in its worth and its beauty—a present to keep as an heirloom;
Such will I give thee—the gift of a friend to a friend that he loveth."
Him forthwith gave answer the grey-eyed goddess Athene:
"Nay, no longer withhold me! I yearn me away on my journey.
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Touching thy present—whatever thy heart shall enjoin thee to give me—
Give it when back I am coming, to carry it straight to my homeland.
Choose it as rare as thou willst; it will gain thee another as goodly."
These words spoken, departed the grey-eyed goddess Athene,
Flitting away as a bird by the roof-hole. Deep in his bosom
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Courage and manly resolve she had planted, and roused a remembrance
Keener than erst of his sire; and he marked the emotion within him
Greatly astonied in spirit, suspecting a deity's presence.
Then to the suitors he went and the strength of a god was upon him.
Here was the minstrel beginning to sing, and the suitors in silence
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Listening sat; and he sang of the homeward return of the Grecians,
Pitiful story of woes inflicted by Pallas Athene.
Now in her upper apartment the wise-souled Penelopeia,
Daughter of Icarius, was aware of the wonderful singing.
Straightway leaving her room by the high-built stair she descended ;
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Neither alone did she go; two maidens followed behind her.
So when at last she had come to the suitors, that fairest of women
Stood by the post of the door of the massively builded apartment,
Holding in front of her cheeks soft folds of her glistering head-dress.
There as she stood, with a trusty attendant on this and on that side,
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Suddenly bursting in tears to the godlike bard she addressed her:
"Phemius, many another enrapturing story thou knowest,
Deeds of immortals and men—themes often by singers recounted.
Such be thy song as thou sitt'st with the guests. Let them listen in silence
Quaffing the wine. But desist, I beseech, from the strain thou art singing,
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Pitiful story, that ever the heart in the depths of my bosom
Woundeth—for me hath befallen an inconsolable sorrow;
Such was the well-loved lord that I mourn—nor can ever forget him—
One whose fame is abroad through Hellas and midmost Argos.”
Her sage Telemachus addressing in turn gave answer:
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"Wherefore, mother, prevent that the sweet-voiced singer delight us
E'en as his spirit is moved? It is never the singer, believe me,
Bringeth us bale; it is Zeus that is guilty thereof; he allotteth
Every mortal that liveth on bread what fortune he willeth.
Nor do I blame that he singeth the pitiful fates of the Argives,
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Seeing that ever by mortals the more extolled is a singer
Singing the song that the newest resounds in the ears of the people.
Therefore harden thy heart and thy mind with the courage to listen.
'Twas not Odysseus alone that was reft of the day of returning
Back from the Trojan land; there perished many another.
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Now to thy chamber return and attend to thine own occupation,
Even the loom and the distaff, and order thy maiden attendants
Busily keep to their tasks; we men will attend to the talking,
All of us—chiefly myself; it is I that am lord of the household."
Full of amazement she turned her to go to the women's apartment,
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Hiding the masterful words of her son deep down in her bosom.
So to her upper apartment ascending with maiden attendants
Here she lamented Odysseus her well-loved husband, till gently
Slumber was poured on her lids by the grey-eyed goddess Athene.
Now in the shadowy hall loud clamour arose of the suitors,
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Each one uttering prayers to the gods to possess her in marriage,
Till sage Telemachus spake out and began to address them:
"Hearken, my mother's suitors—outrageous and riotous brawlers!
Now let us fall to the feast and be merry—but boisterous uproar
Keep we afar! It is pleasant to list to the song of a minstrel
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Such as this singer of mine; for in voice he is like an immortal.
Early to-morrow I ask you to come to the place of the council,
All of you. There shall I make you an open and plain declaration,
Bidding you quit these halls. Ye can seek your junketings elsewhere.
Feed on your own! Go feasting in turn each one with the other!
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Should it however appear to your minds more pleasant and better
Thus to devour the possession of others, nor fear the avenger,
Waste as ye will!—but the gods everlasting I call to my succour,
Hoping that heaven will grant such deeds to receive retribution.
Then in this selfsame hall shall ye perish—and none shall avenge you."
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Thus did he speak, and the men all biting their lips in amazement
Marvelled at Telemachus and the valiant words he had spoken.
Then spake Antinous, Eupeithes' son, and addressed him:
"Verily, Telemachus, it is heaven itself that hath taught thee
Such big blustering vaunts, such impudent boldness of language.
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Never Cronion, I trust, would choose for the Ithacan island
Thee as a king—though truly thou claimest the right to inherit!"
Him sage Telemachus addressing in turn gave answer :
"Antinous—and I trust at my words thou'lt never be angered—
E'en this honour—if offered by Zeus—I am ready to bear it.
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Deemest thou ruling the worst of the evils that mortals inherit ?
Nay—to be ruler is never an evil; for quickly the homestead
Richer and richer becomes and the man held higher in honour.
Many another however among the Achaeans is chieftain
Here in the rock-bound Ithacan isle, both aged and younger.
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One of them haply will gain him the title—as dead is Odysseus.
But, for myself, I intend to be master and lord of my household,
Lord of my servants of all that the sword of Odysseus hath won me."
Forthwith Polybus' son, Prince Eurymachus, made answer :
"Telemachus, on the knees of the gods everlasting it lieth
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Who as the king of the Ithacan island shall rule the Achaeans.
Hold thou fast to thy own! be the master and lord of thy household!
Never shall any be found that shall venture with force to assail thee,
Seeking to ruin thy home—while Ithaca stands as a nation.
Now, good friend, I am fain to examine thee touching this stranger.
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Whence arrived is the man? What folk doth he boast to belong to?
Where is his land, and his kin? Where lies the domain of his homestead?
Came he perchance some tidings to bring of thy father's returning?
Travels he hither in hope some want of his own to provide for?
How of a sudden he rose and was gone! in a moment was vanished,
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Ere we had made us acquainted! yet seemed not a churl in appearance!"
Him sage Telemachus addressing in turn gave answer:
"Eurymachus, clean gone is the hope of my father's returning,
Nor do I further believe in reports, where'er they may come from,
Nor divination consider of aught—such tales as my mother
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Hears from the lips of diviners she calls to the house and examines.
This is an ancient guest of my household. He cometh from Taphos.
Mentes—such is his name. Of a wise-souled father he boasts him,
Anchialus, and himself is the prince of the Taphian sea-folk."
Thus did he speak; but he knew in his heart 'twas a goddess immortal.
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Now to the joys of the dance and the pleasures of singing they turned them,
Making them merry, and thus they awaited the coming of even;
Nor was the merriment over when come was the darkness of even;
Then at the last they departed to sleep, each one to his homestead.
Telemachus, where fronting the fair-built court was his chamber
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(Builded aloft was the room in a site with a beautiful prospect)
Thither betook him to bed, while deep in his spirit he pondered.
Thither with torches ablaze attended him also the trusty
Eurycleia, the daughter of Ops, who was son of Pisenor.
Once, long since, had Laertes expended his wealth to possess her,
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Then in her prime; and a score of his kine as the price he had given.
Honour he gave her as much as his own true wife in the household;
Nor did he make her his mistress; he shrank from the wrath of his consort.
She was the servant that carried the torches to light him; she loved him
More than the rest of the maids, and had served as the nurse to his childhood.
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Now so soon as the door of the fair-built chamber she opened,
Seating him down on the bed, of his doublet soft he disrobed him;
This to the hands of the careful and sage old dame he entrusted.
She, when at length she had folded the tunic and skilfully smoothed it,
Hanging it up on a peg at the side of his rich-carved bedstead,
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Went from the chamber, and pulling the door by the handle of silver
Shut it and fastened it, drawing the bolt well home with the latch-string.
Here for the livelong night, close covered with wrappings of sheep's wool,
Lying he thought of the journey that Pallas Athena had plann'd him.
Zeus, Athena, and Hermes (1810). Drawing by John Flaxman.
