The Odyssey
Book XXIV
Then Mercury of Cyllene summoned the ghosts of the suitors, and in his
hand he held the fair golden wand with which he seals men′s eyes in sleep
or wakes them just as he pleases; with this he roused the ghosts and led
them, while they followed whining and gibbering behind him. As bats fly
squealing in the hollow of some great cave, when one of them has fallen
out of the cluster in which they hang, even so did the ghosts whine and
squeal as Mercury the healer of sorrow led them down into the dark abode
of death. When they had passed the waters of Oceanus and the rock Leucas,
they came to the gates of the sun and the land of dreams, whereon they
reached the meadow of asphodel where dwell the souls and shadows of them
that can labour no more.
Here they found the ghost of Achilles son of Peleus, with those
of Patroclus, Antilochus, and Ajax, who was the finest and handsomest man
of all the Danaans after the son of Peleus himself.
They gathered round the ghost of the son of Peleus, and the ghost
of Agamemnon joined them, sorrowing bitterly. Round him were gathered also
the ghosts of those who had perished with him in the house of Aeisthus;
and the ghost of Achilles spoke first.
"Son of Atreus," it said, "we used to say that Jove had loved you
better from first to last than any other hero, for you were captain over
many and brave men, when we were all fighting together before Troy; yet
the hand of death, which no mortal can escape, was laid upon you all too
early. Better for you had you fallen at Troy in the hey-day of your renown,
for the Achaeans would have built a mound over your ashes, and your son
would have been heir to your good name, whereas it has now been your lot
to come to a most miserable end."
"Happy son of Peleus," answered the ghost of Agamemnon, "for having
died at Troy far from Argos, while the bravest of the Trojans and the Achaeans
fell round you fighting for your body. There you lay in the whirling clouds
of dust, all huge and hugely, heedless now of your chivalry. We fought
the whole of the livelong day, nor should we ever have left off if Jove
had not sent a hurricane to stay us. Then, when we had borne you to the
ships out of the fray, we laid you on your bed and cleansed your fair skin
with warm water and with ointments. The Danaans tore their hair and wept
bitterly round about you. Your mother, when she heard, came with her immortal
nymphs from out of the sea, and the sound of a great wailing went forth
over the waters so that the Achaeans quaked for fear. They would have fled
panic-stricken to their ships had not wise old Nestor whose counsel was
ever truest checked them saying, ′Hold, Argives, fly not sons of the Achaeans,
this is his mother coming from the sea with her immortal nymphs to view
the body of her son.′
"Thus he spoke, and the Achaeans feared no more. The daughters
of the old man of the sea stood round you weeping bitterly, and clothed
you in immortal raiment. The nine muses also came and lifted up their sweet
voices in lament- calling and answering one another; there was not an Argive
but wept for pity of the dirge they chaunted. Days and nights seven and
ten we mourned you, mortals and immortals, but on the eighteenth day we
gave you to the flames, and many a fat sheep with many an ox did we slay
in sacrifice around you. You were burnt in raiment of the gods, with rich
resins and with honey, while heroes, horse and foot, clashed their armour
round the pile as you were burning, with the tramp as of a great multitude.
But when the flames of heaven had done their work, we gathered your white
bones at daybreak and laid them in ointments and in pure wine. Your mother
brought us a golden vase to hold them- gift of Bacchus, and work of Vulcan
himself; in this we mingled your bleached bones with those of Patroclus
who had gone before you, and separate we enclosed also those of Antilochus,
who had been closer to you than any other of your comrades now that Patroclus
was no more.
"Over these the host of the Argives built a noble tomb, on a point
jutting out over the open Hellespont, that it might be seen from far out
upon the sea by those now living and by them that shall be born hereafter.
Your mother begged prizes from the gods, and offered them to be contended
for by the noblest of the Achaeans. You must have been present at the funeral
of many a hero, when the young men gird themselves and make ready to contend
for prizes on the death of some great chieftain, but you never saw such
prizes as silver-footed Thetis offered in your honour; for the gods loved
you well. Thus even in death your fame, Achilles, has not been lost, and
your name lives evermore among all mankind. But as for me, what solace
had I when the days of my fighting were done? For Jove willed my destruction
on my return, by the hands of Aegisthus and those of my wicked
wife."
Thus did they converse, and presently Mercury came up to them with
the ghosts of the suitors who had been killed by Ulysses. The ghosts of
Agamemnon and Achilles were astonished at seeing them, and went up to them
at once. The ghost of Agamemnon recognized Amphimedon son of Melaneus,
who lived in Ithaca and had been his host, so it began to talk to
him.
"Amphimedon," it said, "what has happened to all you fine young
men- all of an age too- that you are come down here under the ground? One
could pick no finer body of men from any city. Did Neptune raise his winds
and waves against you when you were at sea, or did your enemies make an
end of you on the mainland when you were cattle-lifting or sheep-stealing,
or while fighting in defence of their wives and city? Answer my question,
for I have been your guest. Do you not remember how I came to your house
with Menelaus, to persuade Ulysses to join us with his ships against Troy?
It was a whole month ere we could resume our voyage, for we had hard work
to persuade Ulysses to come with us."
And the ghost of Amphimedon answered, "Agamemnon, son of Atreus,
king of men, I remember everything that you have said, and will tell you
fully and accurately about the way in which our end was brought about.
Ulysses had been long gone, and we were courting his wife, who did not
say point blank that she would not marry, nor yet bring matters to an end,
for she meant to compass our destruction: this, then, was the trick she
played us. She set up a great tambour frame in her room and began to work
on an enormous piece of fine needlework. ′Sweethearts,′ said she, ′Ulysses
is indeed dead, still, do not press me to marry again immediately; wait-
for I would not have my skill in needlework perish unrecorded- till I have
completed a pall for the hero Laertes, against the time when death shall
take him. He is very rich, and the women of the place will talk if he is
laid out without a pall.′ This is what she said, and we assented; whereupon
we could see her working upon her great web all day long, but at night
she would unpick the stitches again by torchlight. She fooled us in this
way for three years without our finding it out, but as time wore on and
she was now in her fourth year, in the waning of moons and many days had
been accomplished, one of her maids who knew what she was doing told us,
and we caught her in the act of undoing her work, so she had to finish
it whether she would or no; and when she showed us the robe she had made,
after she had had it washed, its splendour was as that of the sun or
moon.
"Then some malicious god conveyed Ulysses to the upland farm where
his swineherd lives. Thither presently came also his son, returning from
a voyage to Pylos, and the two came to the town when they had hatched their
plot for our destruction. Telemachus came first, and then after him, accompanied
by the swineherd, came Ulysses, clad in rags and leaning on a staff as
though he were some miserable old beggar. He came so unexpectedly that
none of us knew him, not even the older ones among us, and we reviled him
and threw things at him. He endured both being struck and insulted without
a word, though he was in his own house; but when the will of Aegis-bearing
Jove inspired him, he and Telemachus took the armour and hid it in an inner
chamber, bolting the doors behind them. Then he cunningly made his wife
offer his bow and a quantity of iron to be contended for by us ill-fated
suitors; and this was the beginning of our end, for not one of us could
string the bow- nor nearly do so. When it was about to reach the hands
of Ulysses, we all of us shouted out that it should not be given him, no
matter what he might say, but Telemachus insisted on his having it. When
he had got it in his hands he strung it with ease and sent his arrow through
the iron. Then he stood on the floor of the cloister and poured his arrows
on the ground, glaring fiercely about him. First he killed Antinous, and
then, aiming straight before him, he let fly his deadly darts and they
fell thick on one another. It was plain that some one of the gods was helping
them, for they fell upon us with might and main throughout the cloisters,
and there was a hideous sound of groaning as our brains were being battered
in, and the ground seethed with our blood. This, Agamemnon, is how we came
by our end, and our bodies are lying still un-cared for in the house of
Ulysses, for our friends at home do not yet know what has happened, so
that they cannot lay us out and wash the black blood from our wounds, making
moan over us according to the offices due to the departed."
"Happy Ulysses, son of Laertes," replied the ghost of Agamemnon,
"you are indeed blessed in the possession of a wife endowed with such rare
excellence of understanding, and so faithful to her wedded lord as Penelope
the daughter of Icarius. The fame, therefore, of her virtue shall never
die, and the immortals shall compose a song that shall be welcome to all
mankind in honour of the constancy of Penelope. How far otherwise was the
wickedness of the daughter of Tyndareus who killed her lawful husband;
her song shall be hateful among men, for she has brought disgrace on all
womankind even on the good ones."
Thus did they converse in the house of Hades deep down within the
bowels of the earth. Meanwhile Ulysses and the others passed out of the
town and soon reached the fair and well-tilled farm of Laertes, which he
had reclaimed with infinite labour. Here was his house, with a lean-to
running all round it, where the slaves who worked for him slept and sat
and ate, while inside the house there was an old Sicel woman, who looked
after him in this his country-farm. When Ulysses got there, he said to
his son and to the other two:
"Go to the house, and kill the best pig that you can find for dinner.
Meanwhile I want to see whether my father will know me, or fail to recognize
me after so long an absence."
He then took off his armour and gave it to Eumaeus and Philoetius,
who went straight on to the house, while he turned off into the vineyard
to make trial of his father. As he went down into the great orchard, he
did not see Dolius, nor any of his sons nor of the other bondsmen, for
they were all gathering thorns to make a fence for the vineyard, at the
place where the old man had told them; he therefore found his father alone,
hoeing a vine. He had on a dirty old shirt, patched and very shabby; his
legs were bound round with thongs of oxhide to save him from the brambles,
and he also wore sleeves of leather; he had a goat skin cap on his head,
and was looking very woe-begone. When Ulysses saw him so worn, so old and
full of sorrow, he stood still under a tall pear tree and began to weep.
He doubted whether to embrace him, kiss him, and tell him all about his
having come home, or whether he should first question him and see what
he would say. In the end he deemed it best to be crafty with him, so in
this mind he went up to his father, who was bending down and digging about
a plant.
"I see, sir," said Ulysses, "that you are an excellent gardener-
what pains you take with it, to be sure. There is not a single plant, not
a fig tree, vine, olive, pear, nor flower bed, but bears the trace of your
attention. I trust, however, that you will not be offended if I say that
you take better care of your garden than of yourself. You are old, unsavoury,
and very meanly clad. It cannot be because you are idle that your master
takes such poor care of you, indeed your face and figure have nothing of
the slave about them, and proclaim you of noble birth. I should have said
that you were one of those who should wash well, eat well, and lie soft
at night as old men have a right to do; but tell me, and tell me true,
whose bondman are you, and in whose garden are you working? Tell me also
about another matter. Is this place that I have come to really Ithaca?
I met a man just now who said so, but he was a dull fellow, and had not
the patience to hear my story out when I was asking him about an old friend
of mine, whether he was still living, or was already dead and in the house
of Hades. Believe me when I tell you that this man came to my house once
when I was in my own country and never yet did any stranger come to me
whom I liked better. He said that his family came from Ithaca and that
his father was Laertes, son of Arceisius. I received him hospitably, making
him welcome to all the abundance of my house, and when he went away I gave
him all customary presents. I gave him seven talents of fine gold, and
a cup of solid silver with flowers chased upon it. I gave him twelve light
cloaks, and as many pieces of tapestry; I also gave him twelve cloaks of
single fold, twelve rugs, twelve fair mantles, and an equal number of shirts.
To all this I added four good looking women skilled in all useful arts,
and I let him take his choice."
His father shed tears and answered, "Sir, you have indeed come
to the country that you have named, but it is fallen into the hands of
wicked people. All this wealth of presents has been given to no purpose.
If you could have found your friend here alive in Ithaca, he would have
entertained you hospitably and would have required your presents amply
when you left him- as would have been only right considering what you have
already given him. But tell me, and tell me true, how many years is it
since you entertained this guest- my unhappy son, as ever was? Alas! He
has perished far from his own country; the fishes of the sea have eaten
him, or he has fallen a prey to the birds and wild beasts of some continent.
Neither his mother, nor I his father, who were his parents, could throw
our arms about him and wrap him in his shroud, nor could his excellent
and richly dowered wife Penelope bewail her husband as was natural upon
his death bed, and close his eyes according to the offices due to the departed.
But now, tell me truly for I want to know. Who and whence are you- tell
me of your town and parents? Where is the ship lying that has brought you
and your men to Ithaca? Or were you a passenger on some other man′s ship,
and those who brought you here have gone on their way and left
you?"
"I will tell you everything," answered Ulysses, "quite truly. I
come from Alybas, where I have a fine house. I am son of king Apheidas,
who is the son of Polypemon. My own name is Eperitus; heaven drove me off
my course as I was leaving Sicania, and I have been carried here against
my will. As for my ship it is lying over yonder, off the open country outside
the town, and this is the fifth year since Ulysses left my country. Poor
fellow, yet the omens were good for him when he left me. The birds all
flew on our right hands, and both he and I rejoiced to see them as we parted,
for we had every hope that we should have another friendly meeting and
exchange presents."
A dark cloud of sorrow fell upon Laertes as he listened. He filled
both hands with the dust from off the ground and poured it over his grey
head, groaning heavily as he did so. The heart of Ulysses was touched,
and his nostrils quivered as he looked upon his father; then he sprang
towards him, flung his arms about him and kissed him, saying, "I am he,
father, about whom you are asking- I have returned after having been away
for twenty years. But cease your sighing and lamentation- we have no time
to lose, for I should tell you that I have been killing the suitors in
my house, to punish them for their insolence and crimes."
"If you really are my son Ulysses," replied Laertes, "and have
come back again, you must give me such manifest proof of your identity
as shall convince me."
"First observe this scar," answered Ulysses, "which I got from
a boar′s tusk when I was hunting on Mount Parnassus. You and my mother
had sent me to Autolycus, my mother′s father, to receive the presents which
when he was over here he had promised to give me. Furthermore I will point
out to you the trees in the vineyard which you gave me, and I asked you
all about them as I followed you round the garden. We went over them all,
and you told me their names and what they all were. You gave me thirteen
pear trees, ten apple trees, and forty fig trees; you also said you would
give me fifty rows of vines; there was corn planted between each row, and
they yield grapes of every kind when the heat of heaven has been laid heavy
upon them."
Laertes′ strength failed him when he heard the convincing proofs
which his son had given him. He threw his arms about him, and Ulysses had
to support him, or he would have gone off into a swoon; but as soon as
he came to, and was beginning to recover his senses, he said, "O father
Jove, then you gods are still in Olympus after all, if the suitors have
really been punished for their insolence and folly. Nevertheless, I am
much afraid that I shall have all the townspeople of Ithaca up here directly,
and they will be sending messengers everywhere throughout the cities of
the Cephallenians."
Ulysses answered, "Take heart and do not trouble yourself about
that, but let us go into the house hard by your garden. I have already
told Telemachus, Philoetius, and Eumaeus to go on there and get dinner
ready as soon as possible."
Thus conversing the two made their way towards the house. When
they got there they found Telemachus with the stockman and the swineherd
cutting up meat and mixing wine with water. Then the old Sicel woman took
Laertes inside and washed him and anointed him with oil. She put him on
a good cloak, and Minerva came up to him and gave him a more imposing presence,
making him taller and stouter than before. When he came back his son was
surprised to see him looking so like an immortal, and said to him, "My
dear father, some one of the gods has been making you much taller and
better-looking."
Laertes answered, "Would, by Father Jove, Minerva, and Apollo,
that I were the man I was when I ruled among the Cephallenians, and took
Nericum, that strong fortress on the foreland. If I were still what I then
was and had been in our house yesterday with my armour on, I should have
been able to stand by you and help you against the suitors. I should have
killed a great many of them, and you would have rejoiced to see
it."
Thus did they converse; but the others, when they had finished
their work and the feast was ready, left off working, and took each his
proper place on the benches and seats. Then they began eating; by and by
old Dolius and his sons left their work and came up, for their mother,
the Sicel woman who looked after Laertes now that he was growing old, had
been to fetch them. When they saw Ulysses and were certain it was he, they
stood there lost in astonishment; but Ulysses scolded them good-naturedly
and said, "Sit down to your dinner, old man, and never mind about your
surprise; we have been wanting to begin for some time and have been waiting
for you."
Then Dolius put out both his hands and went up to Ulysses. "Sir,"
said he, seizing his master′s hand and kissing it at the wrist, "we have
long been wishing you home: and now heaven has restored you to us after
we had given up hoping. All hail, therefore, and may the gods prosper you.
But tell me, does Penelope already know of your return, or shall we send
some one to tell her?"
"Old man," answered Ulysses, "she knows already, so you need not
trouble about that." On this he took his seat, and the sons of Dolius gathered
round Ulysses to give him greeting and embrace him one after the other;
then they took their seats in due order near Dolius their
father.
While they were thus busy getting their dinner ready, Rumour went
round the town, and noised abroad the terrible fate that had befallen the
suitors; as soon, therefore, as the people heard of it they gathered from
every quarter, groaning and hooting before the house of Ulysses. They took
the dead away, buried every man his own, and put the bodies of those who
came from elsewhere on board the fishing vessels, for the fishermen to
take each of them to his own place. They then met angrily in the place
of assembly, and when they were got together Eupeithes rose to speak. He
was overwhelmed with grief for the death of his son Antinous, who had been
the first man killed by Ulysses, so he said, weeping bitterly, "My friend,
this man has done the Achaeans great wrong. He took many of our best men
away with him in his fleet, and he has lost both ships and men; now, moreover,
on his return he has been killing all the foremost men among the Cephallenians.
Let us be up and doing before he can get away to Pylos or to Elis where
the Epeans rule, or we shall be ashamed of ourselves for ever afterwards.
It will be an everlasting disgrace to us if we do not avenge the murder
of our sons and brothers. For my own part I should have no mote pleasure
in life, but had rather die at once. Let us be up, then, and after them,
before they can cross over to the mainland."
He wept as he spoke and every one pitied him. But Medon and the
bard Phemius had now woke up, and came to them from the house of Ulysses.
Every one was astonished at seeing them, but they stood in the middle of
the assembly, and Medon said, "Hear me, men of Ithaca. Ulysses did not
do these things against the will of heaven. I myself saw an immortal god
take the form of Mentor and stand beside him. This god appeared, now in
front of him encouraging him, and now going furiously about the court and
attacking the suitors whereon they fell thick on one
another."
On this pale fear laid hold of them, and old Halitherses, son of
Mastor, rose to speak, for he was the only man among them who knew both
past and future; so he spoke to them plainly and in all honesty,
saying,
"Men of Ithaca, it is all your own fault that things have turned
out as they have; you would not listen to me, nor yet to Mentor, when we
bade you check the folly of your sons who were doing much wrong in the
wantonness of their hearts- wasting the substance and dishonouring the
wife of a chieftain who they thought would not return. Now, however, let
it be as I say, and do as I tell you. Do not go out against Ulysses, or
you may find that you have been drawing down evil on your own
heads."
This was what he said, and more than half raised a loud shout,
and at once left the assembly. But the rest stayed where they were, for
the speech of Halitherses displeased them, and they sided with Eupeithes;
they therefore hurried off for their armour, and when they had armed themselves,
they met together in front of the city, and Eupeithes led them on in their
folly. He thought he was going to avenge the murder of his son, whereas
in truth he was never to return, but was himself to perish in his
attempt.
Then Minerva said to Jove, "Father, son of Saturn, king of kings,
answer me this question- What do you propose to do? Will you set them fighting
still further, or will you make peace between them?"
And Jove answered, "My child, why should you ask me? Was it not
by your own arrangement that Ulysses came home and took his revenge upon
the suitors? Do whatever you like, but I will tell you what I think will
be most reasonable arrangement. Now that Ulysses is revenged, let them
swear to a solemn covenant, in virtue of which he shall continue to rule,
while we cause the others to forgive and forget the massacre of their sons
and brothers. Let them then all become friends as heretofore, and let peace
and plenty reign."
This was what Minerva was already eager to bring about, so down
she darted from off the topmost summits of Olympus.
Now when Laertes and the others had done dinner, Ulysses began
by saying, "Some of you go out and see if they are not getting close up
to us." So one of Dolius′s sons went as he was bid. Standing on the threshold
he could see them all quite near, and said to Ulysses, "Here they are,
let us put on our armour at once."
They put on their armour as fast as they could- that is to say
Ulysses, his three men, and the six sons of Dolius. Laertes also and Dolius
did the same- warriors by necessity in spite of their grey hair. When they
had all put on their armour, they opened the gate and sallied forth, Ulysses
leading the way.
Then Jove′s daughter Minerva came up to them, having assumed the
form and voice of Mentor. Ulysses was glad when he saw her, and said to
his son Telemachus, "Telemachus, now that are about to fight in an engagement,
which will show every man′s mettle, be sure not to disgrace your ancestors,
who were eminent for their strength and courage all the world
over."
"You say truly, my dear father," answered Telemachus, "and you
shall see, if you will, that I am in no mind to disgrace your
family."
Laertes was delighted when he heard this. "Good heavens, he exclaimed,
"what a day I am enjoying: I do indeed rejoice at it. My son and grandson
are vying with one another in the matter of valour."
On this Minerva came close up to him and said, "Son of Arceisius-
best friend I have in the world- pray to the blue-eyed damsel, and to Jove
her father; then poise your spear and hurl it."
As she spoke she infused fresh vigour into him, and when he had
prayed to her he poised his spear and hurled it. He hit Eupeithes′ helmet,
and the spear went right through it, for the helmet stayed it not, and
his armour rang rattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground. Meantime
Ulysses and his son fell the front line of the foe and smote them with
their swords and spears; indeed, they would have killed every one of them,
and prevented them from ever getting home again, only Minerva raised her
voice aloud, and made every one pause. "Men of Ithaca," she cried, cease
this dreadful war, and settle the matter at once without further
bloodshed."
On this pale fear seized every one; they were so frightened that
their arms dropped from their hands and fell upon the ground at the sound
of the goddess′s voice, and they fled back to the city for their lives.
But Ulysses gave a great cry, and gathering himself together swooped down
like a soaring eagle. Then the son of Saturn sent a thunderbolt of fire
that fell just in front of Minerva, so she said to Ulysses, "Ulysses, noble
son of Laertes, stop this warful strife, or Jove will be angry with
you."
Thus spoke Minerva, and Ulysses obeyed her gladly. Then Minerva
assumed the form and voice of Mentor, and presently made a covenant of
peace between the two contending parties.
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