Ulysses’ Sleepless Night and the Signs of Disaster

Ulysses slept in the cloister upon an undressed bullock’s hide, on the top of which he threw several skins of the sheep the suitors had eaten, and Eurynome¹⁵⁶ threw a cloak over him after he had laid himself down. There, then, Ulysses lay wakefully brooding upon the way in which he should kill the suitors; and by and by, the women who had been in the habit of misconducting themselves with them, left the house giggling and laughing with one another. This made Ulysses very angry, and he doubted whether to get up and kill every single one of them then and there, or to let them sleep one more and last time with the suitors. His heart growled within him, and as a bitch with puppies growls and shows her teeth when she sees a stranger, so did his heart growl with anger at the evil deeds that were being done: but he beat his breast and said, “Heart, be still, you had worse than this to bear on the day when the terrible Cyclops ate your brave companions; yet you bore it in silence till your cunning got you safe out of the cave, though you made sure of being killed.”

Ulysses slept in the covered walkway on an untanned bull’s hide. On top of the hide, he threw several skins from sheep the suitors had eaten. After he lay down, Eurynome¹⁵⁶ covered him with a cloak. Ulysses lay awake there, brooding over how to kill the suitors. Before long, the women who regularly slept with the suitors left the house, giggling and laughing together. Their behavior made Ulysses furious. He wondered whether to rise and kill every one of the women then and there. Or should he let them sleep with the suitors one last time? His heart growled inside him like a female dog guarding her puppies, growling and baring her teeth at a stranger. Just so, his heart growled with anger at the evil deeds being done. But he struck his chest and said, “Be still, heart. You endured worse on the day the terrible Cyclops ate your brave companions. Yet you endured in silence until your cunning brought you safely out of the cave, though you were sure you would be killed.”

Thus he chided with his heart, and checked it into endurance, but he tossed about as one who turns a paunch full of blood and fat in front of a hot fire, doing it first on one side and then on the other, that he may get it cooked as soon as possible, even so did he turn himself about from side to side, thinking all the time how, single handed as he was, he should contrive to kill so large a body of men as the wicked suitors. But by and by Minerva came down from heaven in the likeness of a woman, and hovered over his head saying, “My poor unhappy man, why do you lie awake in this way? This is your house: your wife is safe inside it, and so is your son who is just such a young man as any father may be proud of.”

He scolded his heart like this and forced himself to endure, but he kept tossing and turning. He was like someone turning a stomach stuffed with blood and fat before a hot fire. The cook turns it first one way, then the other, to cook it as quickly as possible. Just so, he turned from side to side. All the while, he wondered how he could kill so many wicked suitors single-handed. Before long, Minerva came down from heaven in the form of a woman and hovered over his head. She said, “My poor, unhappy man, why do you lie awake like this? This is your house. Your wife is safe inside, and so is your son. He is just the sort of young man any father could be proud of.”

“Goddess,” answered Ulysses, “all that you have said is true, but I am in some doubt as to how I shall be able to kill these wicked suitors single handed, seeing what a number of them there always are. And there is this further difficulty, which is still more considerable. Supposing that with Jove’s and your assistance I succeed in killing them, I must ask you to consider where I am to escape to from their avengers when it is all over.”

“Goddess,” Ulysses replied, “all you have said is true. But I have some doubts about how I can kill these wicked suitors single-handed, since there are always so many. And there is another, even greater difficulty. Suppose I succeed in killing them with your help and Jove’s. Then I must ask you to consider where I can escape from those seeking revenge when the killing is over.”

“For shame,” replied Minerva, “why, any one else would trust a worse ally than myself, even though that ally were only a mortal and less wise than I am. Am I not a goddess, and have I not protected you throughout in all your troubles? I tell you plainly that even though there were fifty bands of men surrounding us and eager to kill us, you should take all their sheep and cattle, and drive them away with you. But go to sleep; it is a very bad thing to lie awake all night, and you shall be out of your troubles before long.”

“You should be ashamed,” Minerva replied. “Anyone else would trust a worse ally than me, even a mortal less wise than I am. Am I not a goddess? Haven’t I protected you through all your troubles? I tell you plainly, even if fifty bands of men surrounded us, eager to kill us, you would defeat them. You would take all their sheep and cattle and drive them away with you. But go to sleep. Lying awake all night is very bad for you, and your troubles will soon be over.”

As she spoke she shed sleep over his eyes, and then went back to Olympus.

As she spoke, she made him fall asleep. Then she returned to Olympus.

While Ulysses was thus yielding himself to a very deep slumber that eased the burden of his sorrows, his admirable wife awoke, and sitting up in her bed began to cry. When she had relieved herself by weeping she prayed to Diana saying, “Great Goddess Diana, daughter of Jove, drive an arrow into my heart and slay me; or let some whirlwind snatch me up and bear me through paths of darkness till it drop me into the mouths of over-flowing Oceanus, as it did the daughters of Pandareus. The daughters of Pandareus lost their father and mother, for the gods killed them, so they were left orphans. But Venus took care of them, and fed them on cheese, honey, and sweet wine. Juno taught them to excel all women in beauty of form and understanding; Diana gave them an imposing presence, and Minerva endowed them with every kind of accomplishment; but one day when Venus had gone up to Olympus to see Jove about getting them married (for well does he know both what shall happen and what not happen to every one) the storm winds came and spirited them away to become handmaids to the dread Erinyes. Even so I wish that the gods who live in heaven would hide me from mortal sight, or that fair Diana might strike me, for I would fain go even beneath the sad earth if I might do so still looking towards Ulysses only, and without having to yield myself to a worse man than he was. Besides, no matter how much people may grieve by day, they can put up with it so long as they can sleep at night, for when the eyes are closed in slumber people forget good and ill alike; whereas my misery haunts me even in my dreams. This very night methought there was one lying by my side who was like Ulysses as he was when he went away with his host, and I rejoiced, for I believed that it was no dream, but the very truth itself.”

While Ulysses slept deeply, finding relief from his sorrows, his admirable wife woke, sat up in bed, and began crying. When her tears had brought her some relief, she prayed to Diana, saying, “Great Goddess Diana, daughter of Jove, shoot an arrow into my heart and kill me. Or let some whirlwind snatch me up and carry me through paths of darkness. Let it drop me into the mouths of overflowing Oceanus, as it did the daughters of Pandareus. “The daughters of Pandareus lost their father and mother because the gods killed their parents, leaving the girls orphaned. But Venus cared for them and fed them cheese, honey, and sweet wine. Juno taught them to surpass all women in beauty and understanding. Diana gave them an imposing presence, and Minerva gave them every kind of skill. But one day Venus went up to Olympus to speak with Jove about arranging marriages for them. For he knows well what will and will not happen to everyone. While Venus was away, the storm winds carried the girls off to serve the dreadful Erinyes. “In the same way, I wish the gods who live in heaven would hide me from human sight. Or I wish beautiful Diana would strike me down. I would gladly go beneath the sorrowful earth if I could remain devoted to Ulysses alone. Then I would not have to give myself to a lesser man than he was. Besides, however much people grieve by day, they can endure their grief as long as they can sleep at night. For when people close their eyes in sleep, they forget both good and bad. But my misery follows me even into my dreams. This very night, I thought someone was lying beside me who looked like Ulysses when he left with his army. I rejoiced, because I believed he was truly there, not merely a dream.”

On this the day broke, but Ulysses heard the sound of her weeping, and it puzzled him, for it seemed as though she already knew him and was by his side. Then he gathered up the cloak and the fleeces on which he had lain, and set them on a seat in the cloister, but he took the bullock’s hide out into the open. He lifted up his hands to heaven, and prayed, saying “Father Jove, since you have seen fit to bring me over land and sea to my own home after all the afflictions you have laid upon me, give me a sign out of the mouth of some one or other of those who are now waking within the house, and let me have another sign of some kind from outside.”

Then dawn broke, but Ulysses heard her weeping and was puzzled. It seemed as though she already knew him and was beside him. Then he gathered the cloak and fleeces he had slept on and placed them on a seat in the covered walkway. But he took the bullock’s hide outside. He raised his hands to heaven and prayed, saying “Father Jove, you have chosen to bring me home over land and sea after all the suffering you have caused me. Since you have done so, give me a sign through the words of someone now waking inside the house. And let me have another sign of some kind from outside.”

Thus did he pray. Jove heard his prayer and forthwith thundered high up among the clouds from the splendour of Olympus, and Ulysses was glad when he heard it. At the same time within the house, a miller-woman from hard by in the mill room lifted up her voice and gave him another sign. There were twelve miller-women whose business it was to grind wheat and barley which are the staff of life. The others had ground their task and had gone to take their rest, but this one had not yet finished, for she was not so strong as they were, and when she heard the thunder she stopped grinding and gave the sign to her master. “Father Jove,” said she, “you, who rule over heaven and earth, you have thundered from a clear sky without so much as a cloud in it, and this means something for somebody; grant the prayer, then, of me your poor servant who calls upon you, and let this be the very last day that the suitors dine in the house of Ulysses. They have worn me out with labour of grinding meal for them, and I hope they may never have another dinner anywhere at all.”

That was his prayer. Jove heard him and immediately sent thunder from the splendor of Olympus, high among the clouds. Ulysses was glad to hear the thunder. At the same time, a woman grinding grain in the nearby mill room inside the house called out. Her words gave him another sign. Twelve women worked there, grinding wheat and barley, the grains that sustain life. The others had finished their work and gone to rest. But this woman had not finished because she was not as strong as the others. When she heard the thunder, she stopped grinding and spoke the words that gave her master a sign. “Father Jove,” she said, “you rule over heaven and earth. You have thundered from a clear sky without a single cloud, and that thunder means something for somebody. So grant the prayer of your poor servant who calls on you. Let this be the very last day the suitors dine in the house of Ulysses. They have worn me out with the work of grinding meal for them. I hope they never have another dinner anywhere at all.”

Ulysses was glad when he heard the omens conveyed to him by the woman’s speech, and by the thunder, for he knew they meant that he should avenge himself on the suitors.

Ulysses was glad to hear the signs in the woman’s words and the thunder. He was glad because he knew these signs meant he would take revenge on the suitors.

Then the other maids in the house rose and lit the fire on the hearth; Telemachus also rose and put on his clothes. He girded his sword about his shoulder, bound his sandals on to his comely feet, and took a doughty spear with a point of sharpened bronze; then he went to the threshold of the cloister and said to Euryclea, “Nurse, did you make the stranger comfortable both as regards bed and board, or did you let him shift for himself?—for my mother, good woman though she is, has a way of paying great attention to second-rate people, and of neglecting others who are in reality much better men.”

Then the other maids in the house got up and lit the fire in the hearth. Telemachus also got up and dressed. He slung his sword over his shoulder and strapped sandals onto his handsome feet. He picked up a sturdy spear with a sharpened bronze tip. Then he went to the entrance of the covered walkway and said to Euryclea, “Nurse, did you give the stranger a comfortable bed and enough to eat? Or did you leave him to fend for himself? I ask because, although my mother is a good woman, she often gives second-rate people a great deal of attention. At the same time, she neglects others who are actually much better men.”

“Do not find fault child,” said Euryclea, “when there is no one to find fault with. The stranger sat and drank his wine as long as he liked: your mother did ask him if he would take any more bread and he said he would not. When he wanted to go to bed she told the servants to make one for him, but he said he was such a wretched outcast that he would not sleep on a bed and under blankets; he insisted on having an undressed bullock’s hide and some sheepskins put for him in the cloister and I threw a cloak over him myself.”¹⁵⁷

“Don’t blame anyone, child,” said Euryclea, “when no one is at fault. The stranger sat and drank his wine as long as he liked. Your mother did ask him if he wanted any more bread, and he said no. When he wanted to go to bed, she told the servants to make a bed for him. But he said he was such a miserable outcast that he would not sleep in a bed under blankets. He insisted on having an untanned bull’s hide and some sheepskins laid out for him in the covered walkway. I threw a cloak over him myself.”¹⁵⁷

Then Telemachus went out of the court to the place where the Achaeans were meeting in assembly; he had his spear in his hand, and he was not alone, for his two dogs went with him. But Euryclea called the maids and said, “Come, wake up; set about sweeping the cloisters and sprinkling them with water to lay the dust; put the covers on the seats; wipe down the tables, some of you, with a wet sponge; clean out the mixing-jugs and the cups, and go for water from the fountain at once; the suitors will be here directly; they will be here early, for it is a feast day.”

Then Telemachus left the courtyard and went to where the Achaeans were gathering for an assembly. He carried his spear in his hand. He was not alone, for his two dogs went with him. But Euryclea called the maids and said, “Come, wake up. Start sweeping the covered walkways and sprinkling them with water to settle the dust. Put the covers on the seats. Some of you, wipe down the tables with a wet sponge. Clean out the mixing jugs and cups, and go fetch water from the fountain at once. The suitors will be here soon. They will arrive early because it is a feast day.”

Thus did she speak, and they did even as she had said: twenty of them went to the fountain for water, and the others set themselves busily to work about the house. The men who were in attendance on the suitors also came up and began chopping firewood. By and by the women returned from the fountain, and the swineherd came after them with the three best pigs he could pick out. These he let feed about the premises, and then he said good-humouredly to Ulysses, “Stranger, are the suitors treating you any better now, or are they as insolent as ever?”

She spoke, and they did as she said. Twenty of them went to the fountain for water. The others got busy working around the house. The men serving the suitors also came over and began chopping firewood. After a while, the women returned from the fountain. The swineherd followed them with the three best pigs he could find. He let the pigs feed around the grounds. Then he said cheerfully to Ulysses, “Stranger, are the suitors treating you any better now, or are they as rude as ever?”

“May heaven,” answered Ulysses, “requite to them the wickedness with which they deal high-handedly in another man’s house without any sense of shame.”

“May heaven,” Ulysses answered, “punish them for their wickedness. They act arrogantly in another man’s house without any shame.”

Thus did they converse; meanwhile Melanthius the goatherd came up, for he too was bringing in his best goats for the suitors’ dinner; and he had two shepherds with him. They tied the goats up under the gatehouse, and then Melanthius began gibing at Ulysses. “Are you still here, stranger,” said he, “to pester people by begging about the house? Why can you not go elsewhere? You and I shall not come to an understanding before we have given each other a taste of our fists. You beg without any sense of decency: are there not feasts elsewhere among the Achaeans, as well as here?”

As they talked, Melanthius the goatherd arrived, also bringing his best goats for the suitors’ dinner. Two shepherds were with him. Melanthius and the shepherds tied the goats under the gatehouse. Then Melanthius began mocking Ulysses. “Are you still here, stranger,” he said, “bothering people by begging around the house? Why can’t you go somewhere else? You and I won’t settle our differences until we’ve given each other a taste of our fists. You beg without any shame. Aren’t there feasts elsewhere among the Achaeans, just as there are here?”

Ulysses made no answer, but bowed his head and brooded. Then a third man, Philoetius, joined them, who was bringing in a barren heifer and some goats. These were brought over by the boatmen who are there to take people over when any one comes to them. So Philoetius made his heifer and his goats secure under the gatehouse, and then went up to the swineherd. “Who, Swineherd,” said he, “is this stranger that is lately come here? Is he one of your men? What is his family? Where does he come from? Poor fellow, he looks as if he had been some great man, but the gods give sorrow to whom they will—even to kings if it so pleases them.”

Ulysses said nothing, but bowed his head and sat deep in troubled thought. Then a third man, Philoetius, joined them, bringing a barren heifer and some goats. The animals had been brought across by boatmen who ferry anyone who comes to them. So Philoetius secured his heifer and goats under the gatehouse, then went up to the swineherd. “Swineherd,” he said, “who is this stranger who has just arrived? Is he one of your men? What family does he come from? Where is he from? Poor fellow, he looks as if he was once a great man. But the gods bring sorrow to anyone they choose, even kings, if they please.”

As he spoke he went up to Ulysses and saluted him with his right hand; “Good day to you, father stranger,” said he, “you seem to be very poorly off now, but I hope you will have better times by and by. Father Jove, of all gods you are the most malicious. We are your own children, yet you show us no mercy in all our misery and afflictions. A sweat came over me when I saw this man, and my eyes filled with tears, for he reminds me of Ulysses, who I fear is going about in just such rags as this man’s are, if indeed he is still among the living. If he is already dead and in the house of Hades, then, alas! for my good master, who made me his stockman when I was quite young among the Cephallenians, and now his cattle are countless; no one could have done better with them than I have, for they have bred like ears of corn; nevertheless I have to keep bringing them in for others to eat, who take no heed to his son though he is in the house, and fear not the wrath of heaven, but are already eager to divide Ulysses’ property among them because he has been away so long. I have often thought—only it would not be right while his son is living—of going off with the cattle to some foreign country; bad as this would be, it is still harder to stay here and be ill-treated about other people’s herds. My position is intolerable, and I should long since have run away and put myself under the protection of some other chief, only that I believe my poor master will yet return, and send all these suitors flying out of the house.”

As he spoke, he approached Ulysses and greeted him with his right hand. “Good day to you, old stranger,” he said. “You seem very badly off now, but I hope better times lie ahead for you. Father Jove, you are the most malicious of all the gods. We are your own children, yet you show us no mercy in all our suffering and hardship. I broke into a sweat when I saw this man, and my eyes filled with tears. He reminds me of Ulysses, who I fear is wandering around in rags just like this man’s. That is, if Ulysses is still alive. If he is already dead and in the house of Hades, then alas for my good master! He put me in charge of his cattle when I was very young, among the Cephallenians. Now his cattle are too many to count. No one could have done better with them than I have, for they have multiplied like ears of corn. Yet I must keep bringing the cattle in for others to eat. These men ignore his son, though he is in the house, and have no fear of heaven’s anger. They are already eager to divide Ulysses’ property among themselves because he has been away so long. “I have often thought of taking the cattle away to some foreign country. But leaving with the cattle would not be right while his son is alive. Bad as leaving would be, staying here and being mistreated over other people’s herds is even harder. My situation is unbearable. I would have run away long ago and sought another chief’s protection. Only my belief that my poor master will still return has kept me here. I believe he will send all these suitors fleeing from the house.”

“Stockman,” answered Ulysses, “you seem to be a very well-disposed person, and I can see that you are a man of sense. Therefore I will tell you, and will confirm my words with an oath. By Jove, the chief of all gods, and by that hearth of Ulysses to which I am now come, Ulysses shall return before you leave this place, and if you are so minded you shall see him killing the suitors who are now masters here.”

“Stockman,” Ulysses answered, “you seem to be a very kind person, and I can see that you have good sense. So I will tell you something and swear an oath to confirm my words. I swear by Jove, chief of all gods, and by the hearth of Ulysses, where I have now arrived. Ulysses will return before you leave this place. And if you wish, you will see him killing the suitors who are now in control here.”

“If Jove were to bring this to pass,” replied the stockman, “you should see how I would do my very utmost to help him.”

“If Jove made this happen,” the stockman replied, “you would see me do everything I could to help him.”

And in like manner Eumaeus prayed that Ulysses might return home.

In the same way, Eumaeus prayed that Ulysses would return home.

Thus did they converse. Meanwhile the suitors were hatching a plot to murder Telemachus: but a bird flew near them on their left hand—an eagle with a dove in its talons. On this Amphinomus said, “My friends, this plot of ours to murder Telemachus will not succeed; let us go to dinner instead.”

They continued their conversation. Meanwhile, the suitors were plotting to murder Telemachus. But an eagle carrying a dove in its talons flew near them on their left. At this, Amphinomus said, “My friends, our plot to murder Telemachus will not succeed. Let us go to dinner instead.”

The others assented, so they went inside and laid their cloaks on the benches and seats. They sacrificed the sheep, goats, pigs, and the heifer, and when the inward meats were cooked they served them round. They mixed the wine in the mixing-bowls, and the swineherd gave every man his cup, while Philoetius handed round the bread in the bread baskets, and Melanthius poured them out their wine. Then they laid their hands upon the good things that were before them.

The others agreed, so they went inside and laid their cloaks on the benches and seats. They sacrificed the sheep, goats, pigs, and the heifer. When the internal organs were cooked, they passed them around. They mixed the wine in mixing bowls, and the swineherd gave each man his cup. Meanwhile, Philoetius passed around the bread in baskets, and Melanthius poured wine for everyone. Then they began to eat the good food before them.

Telemachus purposely made Ulysses sit in the part of the cloister that was paved with stone;¹⁵⁸ he gave him a shabby looking seat at a little table to himself, and had his portion of the inward meats brought to him, with his wine in a gold cup. “Sit there,” said he, “and drink your wine among the great people. I will put a stop to the gibes and blows of the suitors, for this is no public house, but belongs to Ulysses, and has passed from him to me. Therefore, suitors, keep your hands and your tongues to yourselves, or there will be mischief.”

Telemachus deliberately seated Ulysses in the stone-paved part of the covered walkway.¹⁵⁸ He gave him a shabby seat at a small table of his own. He had Ulysses’ portion of organ meat brought to him, along with wine in a gold cup. “Sit there,” he said, “and drink your wine among the great people. I will stop the suitors from mocking and hitting you. This is not a public inn. It belongs to Ulysses and has passed from him to me. So, suitors, keep your hands and your tongues to yourselves, or there will be trouble.”

The suitors bit their lips, and marvelled at the boldness of his speech; then Antinous said, “We do not like such language but we will put up with it, for Telemachus is threatening us in good earnest. If Jove had let us we should have put a stop to his brave talk ere now.”

The suitors bit their lips, amazed at how boldly he spoke. Then Antinous said, “We don’t like such talk, but we’ll put up with it, because Telemachus is serious about threatening us. If Jove had allowed us, we would have stopped his bold talk by now.”

Thus spoke Antinous, but Telemachus heeded him not. Meanwhile the heralds were bringing the holy hecatomb through the city, and the Achaeans gathered under the shady grove of Apollo.

Antinous said this, but Telemachus paid no attention to him. Meanwhile, the heralds were bringing the sacred hecatomb, a large animal sacrifice, through the city. And the Achaeans gathered in Apollo’s shady grove.

Then they roasted the outer meat, drew it off the spits, gave every man his portion, and feasted to their heart’s content; those who waited at table gave Ulysses exactly the same portion as the others had, for Telemachus had told them to do so.

Then they roasted the outer meat, took it off the spits, and gave each man his share. They feasted to their hearts’ content. The servers gave Ulysses exactly the same portion as everyone else because Telemachus had told them to.

But Minerva would not let the suitors for one moment drop their insolence, for she wanted Ulysses to become still more bitter against them. Now there happened to be among them a ribald fellow, whose name was Ctesippus, and who came from Same. This man, confident in his great wealth, was paying court to the wife of Ulysses, and said to the suitors, “Hear what I have to say. The stranger has already had as large a portion as any one else; this is well, for it is not right nor reasonable to ill-treat any guest of Telemachus who comes here. I will, however, make him a present on my own account, that he may have something to give to the bath-woman, or to some other of Ulysses’ servants.”

But Minerva would not let the suitors stop their insolent behavior for even a moment. She wanted Ulysses to grow still more bitter toward them. Among them was a foul-mouthed man named Ctesippus, who came from Same. Confident in his great wealth, he was courting Ulysses’ wife. He said to the suitors, “Listen to what I have to say. The stranger has already had as large a portion as anyone else. That is good, because mistreating any guest Telemachus welcomes here is neither right nor reasonable. But I will give the stranger a present of my own. That way, he may have something to give the woman who bathes him, or some other servant of Ulysses.”

As he spoke he picked up a heifer’s foot from the meat-basket in which it lay, and threw it at Ulysses, but Ulysses turned his head a little aside, and avoided it, smiling grimly Sardinian fashion¹⁵⁹ as he did so, and it hit the wall, not him. On this Telemachus spoke fiercely to Ctesippus, “It is a good thing for you,” said he, “that the stranger turned his head so that you missed him. If you had hit him I should have run you through with my spear, and your father would have had to see about getting you buried rather than married in this house. So let me have no more unseemly behaviour from any of you, for I am grown up now to the knowledge of good and evil and understand what is going on, instead of being the child that I have been heretofore. I have long seen you killing my sheep and making free with my corn and wine: I have put up with this, for one man is no match for many, but do me no further violence. Still, if you wish to kill me, kill me; I would far rather die than see such disgraceful scenes day after day—guests insulted, and men dragging the women servants about the house in an unseemly way.”

As he spoke, he picked up a heifer’s foot from the meat basket and threw it at Ulysses. But Ulysses turned his head slightly and dodged it, smiling grimly in the Sardinian manner¹⁵⁹ as he did so. The foot hit the wall, not him. Then Telemachus spoke fiercely to Ctesippus. “You’re lucky,” he said, “that the stranger turned his head so that you missed him. If you had hit him, I would have run you through with my spear. Your father would have had to arrange your burial instead of your marriage in this house. So I want no more disgraceful behavior from any of you. I’m grown up now, and I know right from wrong. I understand what’s happening, instead of being the child I once was. I’ve long watched you killing my sheep and helping yourselves to my grain and wine. I’ve put up with your behavior because one man is no match for many. But do me no further harm. Still, if you want to kill me, kill me. I would much rather die than watch such disgraceful scenes day after day. Guests are insulted, and men drag the women servants around the house in a shameful way.”

They all held their peace till at last Agelaus son of Damastor said, “No one should take offence at what has just been said, nor gainsay it, for it is quite reasonable. Leave off, therefore, ill-treating the stranger, or any one else of the servants who are about the house; I would say, however, a friendly word to Telemachus and his mother, which I trust may commend itself to both. ‘As long,’ I would say, ‘as you had ground for hoping that Ulysses would one day come home, no one could complain of your waiting and suffering¹⁶⁰ the suitors to be in your house. It would have been better that he should have returned, but it is now sufficiently clear that he will never do so; therefore talk all this quietly over with your mother, and tell her to marry the best man, and the one who makes her the most advantageous offer. Thus you will yourself be able to manage your own inheritance, and to eat and drink in peace, while your mother will look after some other man’s house, not yours.’”

They all stayed silent until at last Agelaus son of Damastor said, “No one should take offense at what has just been said or argue against it. The words are quite reasonable. So stop mistreating the stranger or any of the servants in the house. Still, I would offer some friendly advice to Telemachus and his mother. I hope both will find the advice sensible. ‘As long as you had reason to hope Ulysses would come home one day,’ I would say, ‘no one could complain. You were waiting and allowing¹⁶⁰ the suitors to stay in your house. It would have been better if Ulysses had returned. But now it is clear enough that he never will. So discuss all this quietly with your mother. Tell her to marry the best man, the one who makes her the most advantageous offer. Then you will be able to manage your own inheritance and eat and drink in peace. Your mother, meanwhile, will look after another man’s house, not yours.’”

To this Telemachus answered, “By Jove, Agelaus, and by the sorrows of my unhappy father, who has either perished far from Ithaca, or is wandering in some distant land, I throw no obstacles in the way of my mother’s marriage; on the contrary I urge her to choose whomsoever she will, and I will give her numberless gifts into the bargain, but I dare not insist point blank that she shall leave the house against her own wishes. Heaven forbid that I should do this.”

Telemachus answered, “Agelaus, I swear by Jove and by the sorrows of my unhappy father. He has either died far from Ithaca or is wandering in some distant land. I do nothing to prevent my mother’s marriage. On the contrary, I urge her to choose whoever she wants, and I will give her countless gifts as well. But I dare not demand outright that she leave the house against her wishes. Heaven forbid I should force her to leave.”

Minerva now made the suitors fall to laughing immoderately, and set their wits wandering; but they were laughing with a forced laughter. Their meat became smeared with blood; their eyes filled with tears, and their hearts were heavy with forebodings. Theoclymenus saw this and said, “Unhappy men, what is it that ails you? There is a shroud of darkness drawn over you from head to foot, your cheeks are wet with tears; the air is alive with wailing voices; the walls and roof-beams drip blood; the gate of the cloisters and the court beyond them are full of ghosts trooping down into the night of hell; the sun is blotted out of heaven, and a blighting gloom is over all the land.”

Minerva now made the suitors laugh uncontrollably and confused their minds. But their laughter was forced. Their meat became smeared with blood. Their eyes filled with tears, and their hearts were heavy with dread. Theoclymenus saw all this and said, “You doomed men, what is wrong with you? Darkness covers you like a shroud from head to foot. Your cheeks are wet with tears. The air is filled with wailing voices. The walls and roof beams drip blood. The gateway to the covered walkways and the courtyard beyond are full of ghosts marching into the darkness of hell. The sun is blotted out of the sky, and a deadly gloom hangs over all the land.”

Thus did he speak, and they all of them laughed heartily. Eurymachus then said, “This stranger who has lately come here has lost his senses. Servants, turn him out into the streets, since he finds it so dark here.”

He finished speaking, and they all laughed heartily. Eurymachus then said, “This stranger who just arrived has lost his mind. Servants, throw him out into the streets, since he finds it so dark in here.”

But Theoclymenus said, “Eurymachus, you need not send any one with me. I have eyes, ears, and a pair of feet of my own, to say nothing of an understanding mind. I will take these out of the house with me, for I see mischief overhanging you, from which not one of you men who are insulting people and plotting ill deeds in the house of Ulysses will be able to escape.”

But Theoclymenus said, “Eurymachus, you don’t need to send anyone with me. I have my own eyes, ears, and feet, not to mention a mind that can think for itself. I’ll take them all out of this house with me, because I see trouble hanging over you. Not one of you men who insult people and plot evil in the house of Ulysses will escape that trouble.”

He left the house as he spoke, and went back to Piraeus who gave him welcome, but the suitors kept looking at one another and provoking Telemachus by laughing at the strangers. One insolent fellow said to him, “Telemachus, you are not happy in your guests; first you have this importunate tramp, who comes begging bread and wine and has no skill for work or for hard fighting, but is perfectly useless, and now here is another fellow who is setting himself up as a prophet. Let me persuade you, for it will be much better to put them on board ship and send them off to the Sicels to sell for what they will bring.”

He left the house as he spoke and returned to Piraeus, who welcomed him. But the suitors kept exchanging looks and laughing at the strangers to provoke Telemachus. One rude fellow said to him, “Telemachus, you have no luck with your guests. First you have this pest of a beggar, who comes asking for bread and wine. He has no skill for work or hard fighting and is completely useless. And now here is another fellow claiming to be a prophet. Take my advice. You would be much better off putting them aboard a ship and sending them to the Sicels. Sell them there for whatever price you can get.”

Telemachus gave him no heed, but sat silently watching his father, expecting every moment that he would begin his attack upon the suitors.

Telemachus ignored him but sat silently watching his father. He expected his father to attack the suitors at any moment.

Meanwhile the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, had had a rich seat placed for her facing the court and cloisters, so that she could hear what every one was saying. The dinner indeed had been prepared amid much merriment; it had been both good and abundant, for they had sacrificed many victims; but the supper was yet to come, and nothing can be conceived more gruesome than the meal which a goddess and a brave man were soon to lay before them—for they had brought their doom upon themselves.

Meanwhile, wise Penelope, daughter of Icarius, had a fine chair placed facing the courtyard and covered walkways. From there, she could hear what everyone was saying. Dinner had been prepared with much laughter and celebration. The food had been good and plentiful, for many animals had been sacrificed. But supper was still to come. Nothing could be more gruesome than the meal a goddess and a brave man would soon serve them. For the diners had brought their doom upon themselves.