Book 22
The Suitors Killed. The Misbehaving Maids Forced to Clean the Covered Walkways, Then Hanged
Then Ulysses tore off his rags, and sprang on to the broad pavement with his bow and his quiver full of arrows. He shed the arrows on to the ground at his feet and said, “The mighty contest is at an end. I will now see whether Apollo will vouchsafe it to me to hit another mark which no man has yet hit.”
Then Ulysses tore off his rags and leaped onto the broad pavement with his bow and quiver full of arrows. He scattered the arrows on the ground at his feet and said, “The great contest is over. Now I will see whether Apollo will let me hit another target that no man has ever hit.”
On this he aimed a deadly arrow at Antinous, who was about to take up a two-handled gold cup to drink his wine and already had it in his hands. He had no thought of death—who amongst all the revellers would think that one man, however brave, would stand alone among so many and kill him? The arrow struck Antinous in the throat, and the point went clean through his neck, so that he fell over and the cup dropped from his hand, while a thick stream of blood gushed from his nostrils. He kicked the table from him and upset the things on it, so that the bread and roasted meats were all soiled as they fell over on to the ground. The suitors were in an uproar when they saw that a man had been hit; they sprang in dismay one and all of them from their seats and looked everywhere towards the walls, but there was neither shield nor spear, and they rebuked Ulysses very angrily. “Stranger,” said they, “you shall pay for shooting people in this way: you shall see no other contest; you are a doomed man; he whom you have slain was the foremost youth in Ithaca, and the vultures shall devour you for having killed him.”
At this, he aimed a deadly arrow at Antinous, who was about to drink wine from a two-handled gold cup. Antinous already held the cup in his hands. He had no thought of death. Who among all the guests would imagine one man, however brave, standing alone against so many and killing him? The arrow struck Antinous in the throat, and its point went straight through his neck. He fell over, and the cup dropped from his hand, while blood poured thickly from his nostrils. He kicked the table away, spilling everything on it. The bread and roasted meat all fell to the ground and were soiled. The suitors were in an uproar when they saw that a man had been hit. Every one of them sprang from his seat in alarm and searched the walls for weapons. But there was neither a shield nor a spear, and they shouted angrily at Ulysses. “Stranger,” they said, “you will pay for shooting people like this. You will never see another contest. You are doomed. The man you killed was the finest young man in Ithaca, and the vultures will devour you for killing him.”
Notice how wasting good food upsets the writer, even at a moment as important as this.
Thus they spoke, for they thought that he had killed Antinous by mistake, and did not perceive that death was hanging over the head of every one of them. But Ulysses glared at them and said:
They spoke this way because they thought he had killed Antinous by mistake. They did not realize that death was hanging over every one of them. But Ulysses glared at them and said:
“Dogs, did you think that I should not come back from Troy? You have wasted my substance, have forced my women servants to lie with you, and have wooed my wife while I was still living. You have feared neither God nor man, and now you shall die.”
“Dogs, did you think I would never come back from Troy? You have wasted my wealth, and forced my women servants to sleep with you. You have tried to win my wife while I was still alive. You have feared neither God nor anyone else, and now you will die.”
Here we go again. Wasting wealth comes first.
They turned pale with fear as he spoke, and every man looked round about to see whither he might fly for safety, but Eurymachus alone spoke.
They turned pale with fear as he spoke, and every man looked around for somewhere to escape to safety. But only Eurymachus spoke.
“If you are Ulysses,” said he, “then what you have said is just. We have done much wrong on your lands and in your house. But Antinous who was the head and front of the offending lies low already. It was all his doing. It was not that he wanted to marry Penelope; he did not so much care about that; what he wanted was something quite different, and Jove has not vouchsafed it to him; he wanted to kill your son and to be chief man in Ithaca. Now, therefore, that he has met the death which was his due, spare the lives of your people. We will make everything good among ourselves, and pay you in full for all that we have eaten and drunk. Each one of us shall pay you a fine worth twenty oxen, and we will keep on giving you gold and bronze till your heart is softened. Until we have done this no one can complain of your being enraged against us.”
“If you are Ulysses,” he said, “then what you have said is fair. We have done much wrong on your lands and in your house. But Antinous, who led us in our wrongdoing, is already dead. It was all his doing. He did not really want to marry Penelope. He cared little about that. What he wanted was something quite different, and Jove has not granted his wish. He wanted to kill your son and become the ruler of Ithaca. Now that he has died as he deserved, spare the lives of your people. We will share the cost among ourselves and repay you in full for everything we have eaten and drunk. Each of us will pay you a fine worth twenty oxen. And we will keep giving you gold and bronze until your anger softens. Until we have made these payments, no one can blame you for being furious with us.”
Ulysses again glared at him and said, “Though you should give me all that you have in the world both now and all that you ever shall have, I will not stay my hand till I have paid all of you in full. You must fight, or fly for your lives; and fly, not a man of you shall.”
Ulysses glared at him again and said, “Even if you gave me everything you own now and everything you will ever own, I would not stop. Not until I had paid you all back in full. You must fight or run for your lives. But not one of you will escape.”
Their hearts sank as they heard him, but Eurymachus again spoke saying:
Their hearts sank when they heard him. But Eurymachus spoke again, saying:
“My friends, this man will give us no quarter. He will stand where he is and shoot us down till he has killed every man among us. Let us then show fight; draw your swords, and hold up the tables to shield you from his arrows. Let us have at him with a rush, to drive him from the pavement and doorway: we can then get through into the town, and raise such an alarm as shall soon stay his shooting.”
“My friends, this man will show us no mercy. He will stand where he is and shoot us down until he has killed every one of us. So let us fight back. Draw your swords and hold up the tables to shield yourselves from his arrows. Let us rush him to drive him away from the paved floor and doorway. Then we can get out into the town and raise an alarm that will soon put an end to his shooting.”
As he spoke he drew his keen blade of bronze, sharpened on both sides, and with a loud cry sprang towards Ulysses, but Ulysses instantly shot an arrow into his breast that caught him by the nipple and fixed itself in his liver. He dropped his sword and fell doubled up over his table. The cup and all the meats went over on to the ground as he smote the earth with his forehead in the agonies of death, and he kicked the stool with his feet until his eyes were closed in darkness.
As he spoke, he drew his sharp bronze sword, honed on both edges. With a loud cry, he sprang toward Ulysses. But Ulysses instantly shot an arrow into his chest. The arrow struck him at the nipple and lodged in his liver. He dropped his sword and fell forward, doubled over his table. The cup and all the meat fell to the ground as his forehead struck the earth in his death agony. He kicked the stool with his feet until darkness closed over his eyes.
Then Amphinomus drew his sword and made straight at Ulysses to try and get him away from the door; but Telemachus was too quick for him, and struck him from behind; the spear caught him between the shoulders and went right through his chest, so that he fell heavily to the ground and struck the earth with his forehead. Then Telemachus sprang away from him, leaving his spear still in the body, for he feared that if he stayed to draw it out, some one of the Achaeans might come up and hack at him with his sword, or knock him down, so he set off at a run, and immediately was at his father’s side. Then he said:
Then Amphinomus drew his sword and charged straight at Ulysses, trying to force him away from the door. But Telemachus was too quick for Amphinomus and struck him from behind. The spear hit Amphinomus between the shoulders and went right through his chest. He fell heavily to the ground, striking the earth with his forehead. Then Telemachus sprang back, leaving his spear in the body. He feared that if he stayed to pull the spear out, one of the Achaeans might attack him. The attacker might slash him with a sword or knock him down. So Telemachus ran and was immediately at his father’s side. Then he said:
“Father, let me bring you a shield, two spears, and a brass helmet for your temples. I will arm myself as well, and will bring other armour for the swineherd and the stockman, for we had better be armed.”
“Father, let me bring you a shield, two spears, and a brass helmet to protect your head. I will arm myself too, and bring armor for the pig keeper and the cattle herder. We had better all be armed.”
“Run and fetch them,” answered Ulysses, “while my arrows hold out, or when I am alone they may get me away from the door.”
“Run and get them,” Ulysses replied, “while I still have arrows. Otherwise, when I’m alone, they may force me away from the door.”
Telemachus did as his father said, and went off to the store room where the armour was kept. He chose four shields, eight spears, and four brass helmets with horse-hair plumes. He brought them with all speed to his father, and armed himself first, while the stockman and the swineherd also put on their armour, and took their places near Ulysses. Meanwhile Ulysses, as long as his arrows lasted, had been shooting the suitors one by one, and they fell thick on one another: when his arrows gave out, he set the bow to stand against the end wall of the house by the door post, and hung a shield four hides thick about his shoulders; on his comely head he set his helmet, well wrought with a crest of horse-hair that nodded menacingly above it, and he grasped two redoubtable bronze-shod spears.
Telemachus did as his father told him and went to the storeroom where the armor was kept. He chose four shields, eight spears, and four brass helmets with horsehair plumes. He brought them to his father as quickly as he could and put on his own armor first. The stockman and the swineherd also put on their armor and took their places near Ulysses. Meanwhile, as long as his arrows lasted, Ulysses kept shooting the suitors one by one. The men fell in heaps on top of one another. When his arrows ran out, he stood the bow against the hall’s end wall, beside the doorpost. He slung a shield made of four layers of hide over his shoulders. On his handsome head he placed a finely crafted helmet, its horsehair crest nodding menacingly above it. Then he gripped two fearsome bronze-tipped spears.
See “Il.” iii. 337 and three other places. It is strange that the author of the “Iliad” found a little horsehair so alarming. Perhaps she was simply borrowing a stock line from an earlier poet or poetess. For this is a woman’s line rather than a man’s.
Now there was a trap door on the wall, while at one end of the pavement there was an exit leading to a narrow passage, and this exit was closed by a well-made door. Ulysses told Philoetius to stand by this door and guard it, for only one person could attack it at a time. But Agelaus shouted out, “Cannot some one go up to the trap door and tell the people what is going on? Help would come at once, and we should soon make an end of this man and his shooting.”
There was a trap door in the wall. At one end of the paved floor, an exit led to a narrow passage. A well-made door closed off this exit. Ulysses told Philoetius to stand by the door and guard it, because only one person could attack it at a time. But Agelaus shouted, “Can’t someone go up to the trap door and tell the people what is happening? Help would come at once, and we would soon put an end to this man and his shooting.”
Or perhaps simply “window.” See the plan in the appendix.
That is, the pavement Ulysses was standing on.
“This may not be, Agelaus,” answered Melanthius, “the mouth of the narrow passage is dangerously near the entrance to the outer court. One brave man could prevent any number from getting in. But I know what I will do, I will bring you arms from the store-room, for I am sure it is there that Ulysses and his son have put them.”
“That won’t work, Agelaus,” Melanthius answered. “The opening of the narrow passage is dangerously close to the entrance to the outer court. One brave man could stop any number of men from getting in. But I know what I’ll do. I’ll bring you weapons from the storeroom, because I’m sure Ulysses and his son have put the weapons there.”
On this the goatherd Melanthius went by back passages to the store-room of Ulysses’ house. There he chose twelve shields, with as many helmets and spears, and brought them back as fast as he could to give them to the suitors. Ulysses’ heart began to fail him when he saw the suitors putting on their armour and brandishing their spears. He saw the greatness of the danger, and said to Telemachus, “Some one of the women inside is helping the suitors against us, or it may be Melanthius.”
At this, the goatherd Melanthius took the back passages to the storeroom in Ulysses’ house. There he picked out twelve shields, twelve helmets, and twelve spears. He brought them back as fast as he could to give to the suitors. Ulysses began to lose courage when he saw the suitors putting on their armor and waving their spears. He saw how great the danger was and said to Telemachus, “One of the women inside is helping the suitors against us, or it may be Melanthius.”
The interpretation of lines 126-143 is highly uncertain, and at best we are dealing with melodrama. Compare, however, i. 425, etc. That passage suggests there was a tower in the outer court, where Telemachus used to sleep. I take the ὀρσοθύρα to be a door, or trapdoor, leading onto the roof above Telemachus’s bedroom. We are told the bedroom was in a place visible from all sides. Or the ὀρσοθύρα might simply be a window in Telemachus’s room overlooking the street. From the tower’s top, people outside were to be told what was happening. But people could not enter through the ὀρσοθύρα. They would have to use the main entrance. Melanthius explains that the narrow passage’s mouth, controlled by Ulysses and his friends, overlooked the only entrance through which help could come. So raising an alarm would achieve nothing.
As for the ῥῶγες of line 143, no ancient or modern commentator has been able to explain what was meant. But whatever they were, Melanthius could never carry twelve shields, twelve helmets, and twelve spears. Moreover, wherever Melanthius could go, the others could go too. If a dozen suitors had followed Melanthius into the house, they could have attacked Ulysses from behind. In that case, unless Minerva had intervened promptly, the “Odyssey” would have had a different ending. But throughout this scene, we are dealing with wild exaggeration rather than convincing fiction. Only the very serious can take it seriously, until we reach the episode of Phemius and Medon. There the writer begins to feel at home again.
Telemachus answered, “The fault, father, is mine, and mine only; I left the store room door open, and they have kept a sharper look out than I have. Go, Eumaeus, put the door to, and see whether it is one of the women who is doing this, or whether, as I suspect, it is Melanthius the son of Dolius.”
Telemachus answered, “Father, the fault is mine alone. I left the storeroom door open, and they have been more watchful than I have. Go, Eumaeus, close the door. Find out whether one of the women is doing this or whether it is Melanthius, the son of Dolius. I suspect Melanthius.”
Thus did they converse. Meanwhile Melanthius was again going to the store room to fetch more armour, but the swineherd saw him and said to Ulysses who was beside him, “Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, it is that scoundrel Melanthius, just as we suspected, who is going to the store room. Say, shall I kill him, if I can get the better of him, or shall I bring him here that you may take your own revenge for all the many wrongs that he has done in your house?”
So they talked. Meanwhile, Melanthius was going back to the storeroom to fetch more armor. But the swineherd saw him and spoke to Ulysses, who stood beside him. “Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, that scoundrel Melanthius is going to the storeroom, just as we suspected. Tell me, should I kill him if I can overpower him? Or should I bring him here so you can take revenge yourself for all his many wrongs in your house?”
Ulysses answered, “Telemachus and I will hold these suitors in check, no matter what they do; go back both of you and bind Melanthius’ hands and feet behind him. Throw him into the store room and make the door fast behind you; then fasten a noose about his body, and string him close up to the rafters from a high bearing-post, that he may linger on in an agony.”
Ulysses answered, “Telemachus and I will keep these suitors under control, no matter what they do. Both of you, go back and tie Melanthius’ hands and feet behind him. Throw him into the storeroom and lock the door behind you. Then fasten a noose around his body and hang him near the rafters from a high support post, so that he may linger in agony.”
I assume the plan was to drive a hook into the bearing-post.
Thus did he speak, and they did even as he had said; they went to the store room, which they entered before Melanthius saw them, for he was busy searching for arms in the innermost part of the room, so the two took their stand on either side of the door and waited. By and by Melanthius came out with a helmet in one hand, and an old dry-rotted shield in the other, which had been borne by Laertes when he was young, but which had been long since thrown aside, and the straps had become unsewn; on this the two seized him, dragged him back by the hair, and threw him struggling to the ground. They bent his hands and feet well behind his back, and bound them tight with a painful bond as Ulysses had told them; then they fastened a noose about his body and strung him up from a high pillar till he was close up to the rafters, and over him did you then vaunt, O swineherd Eumaeus saying, “Melanthius, you will pass the night on a soft bed as you deserve. You will know very well when morning comes from the streams of Oceanus, and it is time for you to be driving in your goats for the suitors to feast on.”
He spoke, and the two men did as he said. They entered the storeroom before Melanthius saw them, because he was busy searching for weapons deep inside. So the two stood on either side of the door and waited. Soon Melanthius came out with a helmet in one hand and an old, rotting shield in the other. Laertes had carried the shield when he was young. But it had long since been discarded, and its straps had come unstitched. Then the two men seized Melanthius, dragged him back by the hair, and threw him struggling to the ground. They bent his hands and feet far behind his back and tied them tightly, causing him pain, as Ulysses had ordered. Then they fastened a noose around his body and hoisted him up a tall pillar, close to the rafters. Then you, swineherd Eumaeus, taunted him, saying, “Melanthius, you will spend the night on a soft bed, just as you deserve. You will know very well when morning comes from the streams of Oceanus. Then it will be time for you to drive in your goats for the suitors to feast on.”
There, then, they left him in very cruel bondage, and having put on their armour they closed the door behind them and went back to take their places by the side of Ulysses; whereon the four men stood in the cloister, fierce and full of fury; nevertheless, those who were in the body of the court were still both brave and many. Then Jove’s daughter Minerva came up to them, having assumed the voice and form of Mentor. Ulysses was glad when he saw her and said, “Mentor, lend me your help, and forget not your old comrade, nor the many good turns he has done you. Besides, you are my age-mate.”
So they left him there, cruelly bound. After putting on their armour, they closed the door behind them and returned to stand beside Ulysses. The four men stood in the covered walkway, fierce and full of fury. But the men in the main courtyard were still brave and numerous. Then Jove’s daughter Minerva approached them, taking on Mentor’s voice and appearance. Ulysses was glad to see her and said, “Mentor, help me, and do not forget your old comrade or the many favours he has done you. Besides, you and I are the same age.”
But all the time he felt sure it was Minerva, and the suitors from the other side raised an uproar when they saw her. Agelaus was the first to reproach her. “Mentor,” he cried, “do not let Ulysses beguile you into siding with him and fighting the suitors. This is what we will do: when we have killed these people, father and son, we will kill you too. You shall pay for it with your head, and when we have killed you, we will take all you have, in doors or out, and bring it into hotch-pot with Ulysses’ property; we will not let your sons live in your house, nor your daughters, nor shall your widow continue to live in the city of Ithaca.”
But all the time he was sure it was Minerva. The suitors on the other side shouted in anger when they saw her. Agelaus was the first to rebuke her. “Mentor,” he cried, “do not let Ulysses trick you into taking his side and fighting the suitors. Here is what we will do: when we have killed the father and son, we will kill you too. You will pay with your life. And when we have killed you, we will take everything you own, inside your house and outside. We will add it all to Ulysses’ property. We will not let your sons or daughters live in your house. Nor will we let your widow keep living in the city of Ithaca.”
This made Minerva still more furious, so she scolded Ulysses very angrily. “Ulysses,” said she, “your strength and prowess are no longer what they were when you fought for nine long years among the Trojans about the noble lady Helen. You killed many a man in those days, and it was through your stratagem that Priam’s city was taken. How comes it that you are so lamentably less valiant now that you are on your own ground, face to face with the suitors in your own house? Come on, my good fellow, stand by my side and see how Mentor, son of Alcimus shall fight your foes and requite your kindnesses conferred upon him.”
This made Minerva even more furious, so she scolded Ulysses angrily. “Ulysses,” she said, “your strength and skill in battle are no longer what they were. You fought for nine long years among the Trojans over the noble lady Helen. You killed many men in those days, and your plan led to the capture of Priam’s city. Why are you so shamefully less brave now, on your own ground, facing the suitors in your own house? Come on, my good fellow, stand beside me. See how Mentor, son of Alcimus, will fight your enemies and repay the kindness you have shown him.”
What for?
But she would not give him full victory as yet, for she wished still further to prove his own prowess and that of his brave son, so she flew up to one of the rafters in the roof of the cloister and sat upon it in the form of a swallow.
But she would not give him complete victory yet. She wanted to test his skill and his brave son’s skill further. So she flew up to one of the rafters in the cloister roof and perched there as a swallow.
Meanwhile Agelaus son of Damastor, Eurynomus, Amphimedon, Demoptolemus, Pisander, and Polybus son of Polyctor bore the brunt of the fight upon the suitors’ side; of all those who were still fighting for their lives they were by far the most valiant, for the others had already fallen under the arrows of Ulysses. Agelaus shouted to them and said, “My friends, he will soon have to leave off, for Mentor has gone away after having done nothing for him but brag. They are standing at the doors unsupported. Do not aim at him all at once, but six of you throw your spears first, and see if you cannot cover yourselves with glory by killing him. When he has fallen we need not be uneasy about the others.”
Meanwhile, Agelaus son of Damastor, Eurynomus, Amphimedon, Demoptolemus, Pisander, and Polybus son of Polyctor did most of the fighting for the suitors. They were by far the bravest of all those still fighting for their lives. The others had already fallen to Ulysses’ arrows. Agelaus shouted to them, “My friends, Ulysses will soon have to stop fighting, because Mentor has gone away. Mentor did nothing for him but boast. Ulysses and the others are standing at the doors without support. Do not all aim at him at once. Instead, let six of you throw your spears first. See if you can win glory by killing him. Once he has fallen, we need not worry about the others.”
They threw their spears as he bade them, but Minerva made them all of no effect. One hit the door post; another went against the door; the pointed shaft of another struck the wall; and as soon as they had avoided all the spears of the suitors Ulysses said to his own men, “My friends, I should say we too had better let drive into the middle of them, or they will crown all the harm they have done us by killing us outright.”
They threw their spears as he ordered, but Minerva made all the spears miss. One hit the doorpost. Another hit the door. The pointed shaft of another struck the wall. As soon as Ulysses and his men had dodged all the suitors’ spears, Ulysses said to his men, “My friends, I think we had better throw our spears into the middle of them too. Otherwise, the suitors will top off all the harm they have done us by killing us outright.”
They therefore aimed straight in front of them and threw their spears. Ulysses killed Demoptolemus, Telemachus Euryades, Eumaeus Elatus, while the stockman killed Pisander. These all bit the dust, and as the others drew back into a corner Ulysses and his men rushed forward and regained their spears by drawing them from the bodies of the dead.
So they aimed straight ahead and threw their spears. Ulysses killed Demoptolemus, Telemachus killed Euryades, and Eumaeus killed Elatus, while the stockman killed Pisander. All four fell dead. As the others retreated into a corner, Ulysses and his men rushed forward. They recovered their spears by pulling them from the bodies of the dead.
The suitors now aimed a second time, but again Minerva made their weapons for the most part without effect. One hit a bearing-post of the cloister; another went against the door; while the pointed shaft of another struck the wall. Still, Amphimedon just took a piece of the top skin from off Telemachus’s wrist, and Ctesippus managed to graze Eumaeus’s shoulder above his shield; but the spear went on and fell to the ground. Then Ulysses and his men let drive into the crowd of suitors. Ulysses hit Eurydamas, Telemachus Amphimedon, and Eumaeus Polybus. After this the stockman hit Ctesippus in the breast, and taunted him saying, “Foul-mouthed son of Polytherses, do not be so foolish as to talk wickedly another time, but let heaven direct your speech, for the gods are far stronger than men. I make you a present of this advice to repay you for the foot which you gave Ulysses when he was begging about in his own house.”
The suitors aimed a second time, but again Minerva made most of their weapons miss their mark. One struck a supporting post in the covered walkway. Another hit the door, while the pointed shaft of a third struck the wall. Still, Amphimedon scraped a little skin off Telemachus’s wrist, and Ctesippus managed to graze Eumaeus’s shoulder above his shield. But the spear continued past him and fell to the ground. Then Ulysses and his men hurled their spears into the crowd of suitors. Ulysses hit Eurydamas, Telemachus hit Amphimedon, and Eumaeus hit Polybus. After this, the cowherd hit Ctesippus in the chest and taunted him, saying, “Foul-mouthed son of Polytherses, do not be foolish enough to speak so wickedly again. Instead, let heaven guide your words, for the gods are far stronger than men. I offer you this advice as a gift in return for the foot you gave Ulysses. He was begging in his own house.”
Thus spoke the stockman, and Ulysses struck the son of Damastor with a spear in close fight, while Telemachus hit Leocritus son of Evenor in the belly, and the dart went clean through him, so that he fell forward full on his face upon the ground. Then Minerva from her seat on the rafter held up her deadly aegis, and the hearts of the suitors quailed. They fled to the other end of the court like a herd of cattle maddened by the gadfly in early summer when the days are at their longest. As eagle-beaked, crook-taloned vultures from the mountains swoop down on the smaller birds that cower in flocks upon the ground, and kill them, for they cannot either fight or fly, and lookers on enjoy the sport—even so did Ulysses and his men fall upon the suitors and smite them on every side. They made a horrible groaning as their brains were being battered in, and the ground seethed with their blood.
So the stockman spoke, and Ulysses struck the son of Damastor with a spear at close range. Meanwhile, Telemachus struck Leocritus son of Evenor in the belly. The spear went straight through him, so that Leocritus fell forward, flat on his face on the ground. Then Minerva, seated on a rafter, raised her deadly aegis, and the suitors’ hearts filled with fear. They fled to the far end of the courtyard like cattle driven mad by gadflies in early summer. That is when the days are longest. Just as vultures with eagle-like beaks and hooked talons swoop from the mountains onto smaller birds, Ulysses and his men attacked the suitors. The smaller birds huddle in flocks on the ground, unable to fight or escape. The vultures kill them while onlookers enjoy the sport. In the same way, Ulysses and his men struck the suitors on every side. The suitors groaned horribly as their brains were battered in, and the ground churned with their blood.
Leiodes then caught the knees of Ulysses and said, “Ulysses I beseech you have mercy upon me and spare me. I never wronged any of the women in your house either in word or deed, and I tried to stop the others. I saw them, but they would not listen, and now they are paying for their folly. I was their sacrificing priest; if you kill me, I shall die without having done anything to deserve it, and shall have got no thanks for all the good that I did.”
Leiodes grabbed Ulysses by the knees and said, “Ulysses, I beg you to have mercy and spare me. I never wronged any of the women in your house, either in words or actions. And I tried to stop the others. I saw what they did, but they would not listen. Now they are paying for their foolishness. I was the priest who performed their sacrifices. If you kill me, I will die without having done anything to deserve death. And I will have received no thanks for all the good I did.”
Ulysses looked sternly at him and answered, “If you were their sacrificing priest, you must have prayed many a time that it might be long before I got home again, and that you might marry my wife and have children by her. Therefore you shall die.”
Ulysses looked sternly at him and answered, “If you were their priest who offered sacrifices, you must have prayed often that my return would be delayed. You must also have prayed that you could marry my wife and have children with her. So you will die.”
With these words he picked up the sword that Agelaus had dropped when he was being killed, and which was lying upon the ground. Then he struck Leiodes on the back of his neck, so that his head fell rolling in the dust while he was yet speaking.
With these words, he picked up the sword Agelaus had dropped as he was being killed. The sword lay on the ground. Then he struck Leiodes on the back of the neck. The blow sent Leiodes’ head rolling in the dust while he was still speaking.
The minstrel Phemius son of Terpes—he who had been forced by the suitors to sing to them—now tried to save his life. He was standing near towards the trap door, and held his lyre in his hand. He did not know whether to fly out of the cloister and sit down by the altar of Jove that was in the outer court, and on which both Laertes and Ulysses had offered up the thigh bones of many an ox, or whether to go straight up to Ulysses and embrace his knees, but in the end he deemed it best to embrace Ulysses’ knees. So he laid his lyre on the ground between the mixing bowl and the silver-studded seat; then going up to Ulysses he caught hold of his knees and said, “Ulysses, I beseech you have mercy on me and spare me. You will be sorry for it afterwards if you kill a bard who can sing both for gods and men as I can. I make all my lays myself, and heaven visits me with every kind of inspiration. I would sing to you as though you were a god, do not therefore be in such a hurry to cut my head off. Your own son Telemachus will tell you that I did not want to frequent your house and sing to the suitors after their meals, but they were too many and too strong for me, so they made me.”
The singer Phemius, son of Terpes, now tried to save his life. The suitors had forced him to sing to them. He stood near the trap door, holding his lyre. He did not know whether to flee the covered walkway and sit by Jove’s altar in the outer courtyard. Both Laertes and Ulysses had offered the thigh bones of many oxen on that altar. Or should he go straight to Ulysses and clasp his knees? In the end, he decided it was best to clasp Ulysses’ knees. So he laid his lyre on the ground between the mixing bowl and the silver-studded seat. Then he went up to Ulysses, took hold of his knees, and said, “Ulysses, I beg you, have mercy on me and spare my life. You will regret killing a singer who can sing for both gods and men, as I can. I compose all my songs myself, and heaven gives me every kind of inspiration. I would sing to you as though you were a god, so do not rush to cut off my head. Your own son Telemachus will tell you I did not want to keep coming to your house. I did not want to sing to the suitors after their meals. But the suitors were too many and too strong for me, so they forced me.”
Greek: ἄγχι παρ’ ὀρσοθύρην. This phrase is not ἄγχι τῆς ὀρσοθύρης.
Based on lines 333 and 341 of this book, and lines 145 and 146 of bk. xxi., we can locate the approach to the ὀρσοθύρα with some certainty.
Telemachus heard him, and at once went up to his father. “Hold!” he cried, “the man is guiltless, do him no hurt; and we will spare Medon too, who was always good to me when I was a boy, unless Philoetius or Eumaeus has already killed him, or he has fallen in your way when you were raging about the court.”
Telemachus heard him and immediately went up to his father. “Stop!” he cried. “The man is innocent. Don’t hurt him. We’ll spare Medon too, who was always kind to me when I was a boy. Unless Philoetius or Eumaeus has already killed him, or he crossed your path as you raged through the courtyard.”
Medon caught these words of Telemachus, for he was crouching under a seat beneath which he had hidden by covering himself up with a freshly flayed heifer’s hide, so he threw off the hide, went up to Telemachus, and laid hold of his knees.
Medon heard these words from Telemachus as he crouched under a seat, hidden beneath a freshly skinned heifer’s hide. So he threw off the hide, went up to Telemachus, and clasped his knees.
“Here I am, my dear sir,” said he, “stay your hand therefore, and tell your father, or he will kill me in his rage against the suitors for having wasted his substance and been so foolishly disrespectful to yourself.”
“Here I am, my dear sir,” he said. “So don't strike, and tell your father. Otherwise, he will kill me in his anger at the suitors. He is furious because the suitors have wasted his wealth and treated you with such foolish disrespect.”
Ulysses smiled at him and answered, “Fear not; Telemachus has saved your life, that you may know in future, and tell other people, how greatly better good deeds prosper than evil ones. Go, therefore, outside the cloisters into the outer court, and be out of the way of the slaughter—you and the bard—while I finish my work here inside.”
Ulysses smiled at him and answered, “Don’t be afraid. Telemachus has saved your life so you may learn how much better good deeds turn out than evil ones. Then you can tell others. So go beyond the covered walkways into the outer courtyard, and stay clear of the slaughter. Take the bard with you while I finish my work in here.”
The pair went into the outer court as fast as they could, and sat down by Jove’s great altar, looking fearfully round, and still expecting that they would be killed. Then Ulysses searched the whole court carefully over, to see if anyone had managed to hide himself and was still living, but he found them all lying in the dust and weltering in their blood. They were like fishes which fishermen have netted out of the sea, and thrown upon the beach to lie gasping for water till the heat of the sun makes an end of them. Even so were the suitors lying all huddled up one against the other.
The pair hurried into the outer court as fast as they could and sat down beside Jove’s great altar. They looked around fearfully, still expecting to be killed. Then Ulysses carefully searched the whole court to see if anyone had hidden and was still alive. But he found them all lying in the dust, covered in their own blood. They were like fish that fishermen have caught in nets at sea and thrown onto the beach. The fish lie gasping for water until the sun’s heat kills them. Just so, the suitors lay huddled against one another.
Then Ulysses said to Telemachus, “Call nurse Euryclea; I have something to say to her.”
Then Ulysses said to Telemachus, “Call nurse Euryclea. I have something to say to her.”
Telemachus went and knocked at the door of the women’s room. “Make haste,” said he, “you old woman who have been set over all the other women in the house. Come outside; my father wishes to speak to you.”
Telemachus went and knocked on the door of the women’s room. “Hurry,” he said, “you old woman in charge of all the other women in the house. Come outside. My father wants to speak to you.”
When Euryclea heard this she unfastened the door of the women’s room and came out, following Telemachus. She found Ulysses among the corpses bespattered with blood and filth like a lion that has just been devouring an ox, and his breast and both his cheeks are all bloody, so that he is a fearful sight; even so was Ulysses besmirched from head to foot with gore. When she saw all the corpses and such a quantity of blood, she was beginning to cry out for joy, for she saw that a great deed had been done; but Ulysses checked her, “Old woman,” said he, “rejoice in silence; restrain yourself, and do not make any noise about it; it is an unholy thing to vaunt over dead men. Heaven’s doom and their own evil deeds have brought these men to destruction, for they respected no man in the whole world, neither rich nor poor, who came near them, and they have come to a bad end as a punishment for their wickedness and folly. Now, however, tell me which of the women in the house have misconducted themselves, and who are innocent.”
When Euryclea heard this, she unlocked the door to the women’s room and followed Telemachus out. She found Ulysses among the corpses, splattered with blood and filth. He looked like a lion that has just devoured an ox. Its chest and both cheeks are covered in blood, making it a terrifying sight. Just so, Ulysses was covered in blood from head to foot. When Euryclea saw all the corpses and so much blood, she began to cry out with joy. She could see that a great deed had been done. But Ulysses stopped her. “Old woman,” he said, “rejoice in silence. Control yourself, and make no noise about this. It is unholy to gloat over dead men. Heaven’s judgment and their own evil deeds have brought these men to destruction. They respected no one in the whole world who came near them, whether rich or poor. So they have met a terrible end as punishment for their wickedness and foolishness. But now tell me which women in the house have behaved badly, and which are innocent.”
But in xix. 500-502 Ulysses scolded Euryclea for offering information on this very point. He said he could settle the matter himself.
“I will tell you the truth, my son,” answered Euryclea. “There are fifty women in the house whom we teach to do things, such as carding wool, and all kinds of household work. Of these, twelve in all have misbehaved, and have been wanting in respect to me, and also to Penelope. They showed no disrespect to Telemachus, for he has only lately grown and his mother never permitted him to give orders to the female servants; but let me go upstairs and tell your wife all that has happened, for some god has been sending her to sleep.”
“I will tell you the truth, my son,” Euryclea answered. “There are fifty women in the house. We teach them to card wool and do all kinds of household work. Of these women, twelve in all have behaved badly and shown disrespect to me and Penelope. They showed no disrespect to Telemachus, because he has only recently grown up. His mother never allowed him to give orders to the female servants. But let me go upstairs and tell your wife everything that has happened, because some god has kept her asleep.”
There were 108 suitors.
“Do not wake her yet,” answered Ulysses, “but tell the women who have misconducted themselves to come to me.”
“Don’t wake her yet,” Ulysses replied. “But tell the women who have behaved badly to come to me.”
Euryclea left the cloister to tell the women, and make them come to Ulysses; in the meantime he called Telemachus, the stockman, and the swineherd. “Begin,” said he, “to remove the dead, and make the women help you. Then, get sponges and clean water to swill down the tables and seats. When you have thoroughly cleansed the whole cloisters, take the women into the space between the domed room and the wall of the outer court, and run them through with your swords till they are quite dead, and have forgotten all about love and the way in which they used to lie in secret with the suitors.”
Euryclea left the covered courtyard to tell the women and bring them to Ulysses. Meanwhile, Ulysses called Telemachus, the cattle herder, and the swineherd. “Start removing the dead,” he said, “and make the women help you. Then get sponges and clean water to wash down the tables and seats. Once you have thoroughly cleaned the whole courtyard, take the women between the domed room and the outer courtyard wall. Thrust your swords through them until they are completely dead and have forgotten all about love. They must forget how they used to sleep secretly with the suitors.”
On this the women came down in a body, weeping and wailing bitterly. First they carried the dead bodies out, and propped them up against one another in the gatehouse. Ulysses ordered them about and made them do their work quickly, so they had to carry the bodies out. When they had done this, they cleaned all the tables and seats with sponges and water, while Telemachus and the two others shovelled up the blood and dirt from the ground, and the women carried it all away and put it out of doors. Then when they had made the whole place quite clean and orderly, they took the women out and hemmed them in the narrow space between the wall of the domed room and that of the yard, so that they could not get away: and Telemachus said to the other two, “I shall not let these women die a clean death, for they were insolent to me and my mother, and used to sleep with the suitors.”
At this, the women came down together, weeping and crying out bitterly. First they carried out the dead bodies and propped them against one another in the gatehouse. Ulysses gave the women orders and made them work quickly, so they had to carry the bodies out. Once the bodies were outside, the women cleaned all the tables and seats with sponges and water. Meanwhile, Telemachus and the two others shoveled the blood and dirt off the ground. The women carried all the blood and dirt outside. Once the whole place was clean and orderly, Telemachus and the two others took the women outside. They confined the women between the wall of the domed room and the courtyard wall so they could not escape. Telemachus said to the other two, “I will not let these women die a clean death. They were rude and disrespectful to me and my mother, and they used to sleep with the suitors.”
So saying he made a ship’s cable fast to one of the bearing-posts that supported the roof of the domed room, and secured it all around the building, at a good height, lest any of the women’s feet should touch the ground; and as thrushes or doves beat against a net that has been set for them in a thicket just as they were getting to their nest, and a terrible fate awaits them, even so did the women have to put their heads in nooses one after the other and die most miserably. Their feet moved convulsively for a while, but not for very long.
With that, he tied a ship’s rope to one of the posts supporting the domed room’s roof. He secured the rope all around the building, high enough to keep any of the women’s feet from touching the ground. Like thrushes or doves caught in a net in a thicket just as they are reaching their nest, the women struggled. A terrible fate awaits those birds. So too, the women had to put their heads into nooses, one after another, and die in misery. Their feet twitched for a while, but not for very long.
Lord Grimthorpe, who is not easily fooled, has kindly written about my conviction that the “Odyssey” was written by a woman. He also sent comments on the sheer absurdity of the incident described here. Clearly, the female author cared only that the women should be hanged. She did not care about imagining how the hanging happened or helping her readers picture it. Readers must take her word for it and ask no questions. Lord Grimthorpe wrote:
“I had better send you my ideas about Nausicaa’s hanging of the maids (not ‘maidens,’ of whom Froude wrote so well in his ‘Science of History’) before I forget it all. Luckily for me Liddell & Scott have specially translated most of the doubtful words, referring to this very place.
“A ship’s cable. I don’t know how big a ship she meant, but it must have been a very small one indeed if its ‘cable’ could be used to tie tightly round a woman’s neck, and still more round a dozen of them ‘in a row,’ besides being strong enough to hold them and pull them all up.
“A dozen average women would need the weight and strength of more than a dozen strong heavy men even over the best pulley hung to the roof over them; and the idea of pulling them up by a rope hung anyhow round a pillar (κίονος) is absurdly impossible; and how a dozen of them could be hung dangling round one post is a problem which a senior wrangler would be puzzled to answer... She had better have let Telemachus use his sword as he had intended till she changed his mind for him.”
As for Melanthius, they took him through the cloister into the inner court. There they cut off his nose and his ears; they drew out his vitals and gave them to the dogs raw, and then in their fury they cut off his hands and his feet.
As for Melanthius, they took him through the covered walkway into the inner courtyard. There they cut off his nose and ears. They pulled out his internal organs and fed them raw to the dogs. Then, in their fury, they cut off his hands and feet.
When they had done this they washed their hands and feet and went back into the house, for all was now over; and Ulysses said to the dear old nurse Euryclea, “Bring me sulphur, which cleanses all pollution, and fetch fire also that I may burn it, and purify the cloisters. Go, moreover, and tell Penelope to come here with her attendants, and also all the maidservants that are in the house.”
When they had finished, they washed their hands and feet and went back into the house, because everything was over. Ulysses said to his dear old nurse Euryclea, “Bring me sulphur, which cleanses all impurities. Bring fire too, so I can burn the sulphur and purify the covered walkways. Also, go and tell Penelope to come here with her attendants, along with all the maidservants in the house.”
“All that you have said is true,” answered Euryclea, “but let me bring you some clean clothes—a shirt and cloak. Do not keep these rags on your back any longer. It is not right.”
“Everything you’ve said is true,” Euryclea replied, “but let me bring you some clean clothes, a shirt and cloak. Don’t keep wearing these rags any longer. Wearing them isn’t right.”
“First light me a fire,” replied Ulysses.
“First, light a fire for me,” Ulysses replied.
She brought the fire and sulphur, as he had bidden her, and Ulysses thoroughly purified the cloisters and both the inner and outer courts. Then she went inside to call the women and tell them what had happened; whereon they came from their apartment with torches in their hands, and pressed round Ulysses to embrace him, kissing his head and shoulders and taking hold of his hands. It made him feel as if he should like to weep, for he remembered every one of them.
She brought the fire and sulphur, as he had asked. Ulysses thoroughly purified the covered walkways and both the inner and outer courtyards. Then she went inside to call the women and tell them what had happened. The women came from their rooms with torches in their hands and crowded around Ulysses to embrace him. They kissed his head and shoulders and held his hands. Their welcome made him feel as if he wanted to weep, because he remembered every one of them.
By then, they had all worked for Ulysses for over twenty years. Perhaps the twelve guilty ones had been hired more recently.