Perseus · Murray (1919)
23
1 γρηῢς δʼ εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀνεβήσετο καγχαλόωσα,
δεσποίνῃ ἐρέουσα φίλον πόσιν ἔνδον ἐόντα·
γούνατα δʼ ἐρρώσαντο, πόδες δʼ ὑπερικταίνοντο.
στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·
5 ἔγρεο, Πηνελόπεια, φίλον τέκος, ὄφρα ἴδηαι
ὀφθαλμοῖσι τεοῖσι τά τʼ ἔλδεαι ἤματα πάντα.
ἦλθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ὀψέ περ ἐλθών.
μνηστῆρας δʼ ἔκτεινεν ἀγήνορας, οἵ θʼ ἑὸν οἶκον
κήδεσκον καὶ κτήματʼ ἔδον βιόωντό τε παῖδα.
10 τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
μαῖα φίλη, μάργην σε θεοὶ θέσαν, οἵ τε δύνανται
ἄφρονα ποιῆσαι καὶ ἐπίφρονά περ μάλʼ ἐόντα,
καί τε χαλιφρονέοντα σαοφροσύνης ἐπέβησαν·
οἵ σέ περ ἔβλαψαν· πρὶν δὲ φρένας αἰσίμη ἦσθα.
15 τίπτε με λωβεύεις πολυπενθέα θυμὸν ἔχουσαν
ταῦτα παρὲξ ἐρέουσα καὶ ἐξ ὕπνου μʼ ἀνεγείρεις
ἡδέος, ὅς μʼ ἐπέδησε φίλα βλέφαρʼ ἀμφικαλύψας;
οὐ γάρ πω τοιόνδε κατέδραθον, ἐξ οὗ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ᾤχετʼ ἐποψόμενος Κακοΐλιον οὐκ ὀνομαστήν.
20 ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν κατάβηθι καὶ ἂψ ἔρχευ μέγαρόνδε.
εἰ γάρ τίς μʼ ἄλλη γε γυναικῶν, αἵ μοι ἔασι,
ταῦτʼ ἐλθοῦσʼ ἤγγειλε καὶ ἐξ ὕπνου ἀνέγειρεν,
τῷ κε τάχα στυγερῶς μιν ἐγὼν ἀπέπεμψα νέεσθαι
αὖτις ἔσω μέγαρον· σὲ δὲ τοῦτό γε γῆρας ὀνήσει.
25 τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
οὔ τί σε λωβεύω, τέκνον φίλον, ἀλλʼ ἔτυμόν τοι
ἦλθʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ὡς ἀγορεύω,
ὁ ξεῖνος, τὸν πάντες ἀτίμων ἐν μεγάροισι.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἄρα μιν πάλαι ᾔδεεν ἔνδον ἐόντα,
30 ἀλλὰ σαοφροσύνῃσι νοήματα πατρὸς ἔκευθεν,
ὄφρʼ ἀνδρῶν τίσαιτο βίην ὑπερηνορεόντων.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, ἡ δʼ ἐχάρη καὶ ἀπὸ λέκτροιο θοροῦσα
γρηῒ περιπλέχθη, βλεφάρων δʼ ἀπὸ δάκρυον ἧκεν·
καί μιν φωνήσασʼ ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
35 εἰ δʼ ἄγε δή μοι, μαῖα φίλη, νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες,
εἰ ἐτεὸν δὴ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ὡς ἀγορεύεις,
ὅππως δὴ μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφῆκε
μοῦνος ἐών, οἱ δʼ αἰὲν ἀολλέες ἔνδον ἔμιμνον.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
40 οὐκ ἴδον, οὐ πυθόμην, ἀλλὰ στόνον οἶον ἄκουσα
κτεινομένων· ἡμεῖς δὲ μυχῷ θαλάμων εὐπήκτων
ἥμεθʼ ἀτυζόμεναι, σανίδες δʼ ἔχον εὖ ἀραρυῖαι,
πρίν γʼ ὅτε δή με σὸς υἱὸς ἀπὸ μεγάροιο κάλεσσε
Τηλέμαχος· τὸν γάρ ῥα πατὴρ προέηκε καλέσσαι.
45 εὗρον ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆα μετὰ κταμένοισι νέκυσσιν
ἑσταόθʼ· οἱ δέ μιν ἀμφί, κραταίπεδον οὖδας ἔχοντες,
κείατʼ ἐπʼ ἀλλήλοισιν· ἰδοῦσά κε θυμὸν ἰάνθης.
νῦν δʼ οἱ μὲν δὴ πάντες ἐπʼ αὐλείῃσι θύρῃσιν
50 ἀθρόοι, αὐτὰρ ὁ δῶμα θεειοῦται περικαλλές,
πῦρ μέγα κηάμενος· σὲ δέ με προέηκε καλέσσαι.
ἀλλʼ ἕπευ, ὄφρα σφῶϊν ἐϋφροσύνης ἐπιβῆτον
ἀμφοτέρω φίλον ἦτορ, ἐπεὶ κακὰ πολλὰ πέποσθε.
νῦν δʼ ἤδη τόδε μακρὸν ἐέλδωρ ἐκτετέλεσται·
55 ἦλθε μὲν αὐτὸς ζωὸς ἐφέστιος, εὗρε δὲ καὶ σὲ
καὶ παῖδʼ ἐν μεγάροισι· κακῶς δʼ οἵ πέρ μιν ἔρεζον
μνηστῆρες, τοὺς πάντας ἐτίσατο ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.
τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
μαῖα φίλη, μή πω μέγʼ ἐπεύχεο καγχαλόωσα.
60 οἶσθα γὰρ ὥς κʼ ἀσπαστὸς ἐνὶ μεγάροισι φανείη
πᾶσι, μάλιστα δʼ ἐμοί τε καὶ υἱέϊ, τὸν τεκόμεσθα·
ἀλλʼ οὐκ ἔσθʼ ὅδε μῦθος ἐτήτυμος, ὡς ἀγορεύεις,
ἀλλά τις ἀθανάτων κτεῖνε μνηστῆρας ἀγαυούς,
ὕβριν ἀγασσάμενος θυμαλγέα καὶ κακὰ ἔργα.
65 οὔ τινα γὰρ τίεσκον ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων,
οὐ κακὸν οὐδὲ μὲν ἐσθλόν, ὅτις σφέας εἰσαφίκοιτο·
τῷ διʼ ἀτασθαλίας ἔπαθον κακόν· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ὤλεσε τηλοῦ νόστον Ἀχαιΐδος, ὤλετο δʼ αὐτός.
τὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
70 τέκνον ἐμόν, ποῖόν σε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων,
ἣ πόσιν ἔνδον ἐόντα παρʼ ἐσχάρῃ οὔ ποτʼ ἔφησθα
οἴκαδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι· θυμὸς δέ τοι αἰὲν ἄπιστος.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε τοι καὶ σῆμα ἀριφραδὲς ἄλλο τι εἴπω,
οὐλήν, τήν ποτέ μιν σῦς ἤλασε λευκῷ ὀδόντι.
75 τὴν ἀπονίζουσα φρασάμην, ἔθελον δὲ σοὶ αὐτῇ
εἰπέμεν· ἀλλά με κεῖνος ἑλὼν ἐπὶ μάστακα χερσὶν
οὐκ ἔα εἰπέμεναι πολυϊδρείῃσι νόοιο.
ἀλλʼ ἕπευ· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐμέθεν περιδώσομαι αὐτῆς,
αἴ κέν σʼ ἐξαπάφω, κτεῖναί μʼ οἰκτίστῳ ὀλέθρῳ.
80 τὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
μαῖα φίλη, χαλεπόν σε θεῶν αἰειγενετάων
δήνεα εἴρυσθαι, μὰλα περ πολύϊδριν ἐοῦσαν.
ἀλλʼ ἔμπης ἴομεν μετὰ παῖδʼ ἐμόν, ὄφρα ἴδωμαι
ἄνδρας μνηστῆρας τεθνηότας, ἠδʼ ὃς ἔπεφνεν.
85 ὣς φαμένη κατέβαινʼ ὑπερώϊα· πολλὰ δέ οἱ κῆρ
ὥρμαινʼ, ἢ ἀπάνευθε φίλον πόσιν ἐξερεείνοι,
ἦ παρστᾶσα κύσειε κάρη καὶ χεῖρε λαβοῦσα.
ἡ δʼ ἐπεὶ εἰσῆλθεν καὶ ὑπέρβη λάϊνον οὐδόν,
ἕζετʼ ἔπειτʼ Ὀδυσῆος ἐναντίη, ἐν πυρὸς αὐγῇ,
90 τοίχου τοῦ ἑτέρου· ὁ δʼ ἄρα πρὸς κίονα μακρὴν
ἧστο κάτω ὁρόων, ποτιδέγμενος εἴ τί μιν εἴποι
ἰφθίμη παράκοιτις, ἐπεὶ ἴδεν ὀφθαλμοῖσιν.
ἡ δʼ ἄνεω δὴν ἧστο, τάφος δέ οἱ ἦτορ ἵκανεν·
ὄψει δʼ ἄλλοτε μέν μιν ἐνωπαδίως ἐσίδεσκεν,
95 ἄλλοτε δʼ ἀγνώσασκε κακὰ χροῒ εἵματʼ ἔχοντα.
Τηλέμαχος δʼ ἐνένιπεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζε·
μῆτερ ἐμή, δύσμητερ, ἀπηνέα θυμὸν ἔχουσα,
τίφθʼ οὕτω πατρὸς νοσφίζεαι, οὐδὲ παρʼ αὐτὸν
ἑζομένη μύθοισιν ἀνείρεαι οὐδὲ μεταλλᾷς;
100 οὐ μέν κʼ ἄλλη γʼ ὧδε γυνὴ τετληότι θυμῷ
ἀνδρὸς ἀφεσταίη, ὅς οἱ κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας
ἔλθοι ἐεικοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·
σοὶ δʼ αἰεὶ κραδίη στερεωτέρη ἐστὶ λίθοιο.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
105 τέκνον ἐμόν, θυμός μοι ἐνὶ στήθεσσι τέθηπεν,
οὐδέ τι προσφάσθαι δύναμαι ἔπος οὐδʼ ἐρέεσθαι
οὐδʼ εἰς ὦπα ἰδέσθαι ἐναντίον. εἰ δʼ ἐτεὸν δὴ
ἔστʼ Ὀδυσεὺς καὶ οἶκον ἱκάνεται, ἦ μάλα νῶϊ
γνωσόμεθʼ ἀλλήλων καὶ λώϊον· ἔστι γὰρ ἡμῖν
110 σήμαθʼ, ἃ δὴ καὶ νῶϊ κεκρυμμένα ἴδμεν ἀπʼ ἄλλων.
ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς,
αἶψα δὲ Τηλέμαχον ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
Τηλέμαχʼ, ἦ τοι μητέρʼ ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔασον
πειράζειν ἐμέθεν· τάχα δὲ φράσεται καὶ ἄρειον.
115 νῦν δʼ ὅττι ῥυπόω, κακὰ δὲ χροῒ εἵματα εἷμαι,
τοὔνεκʼ ἀτιμάζει με καὶ οὔ πω φησὶ τὸν εἶναι.
ἡμεῖς δὲ φραζώμεθʼ ὅπως ὄχʼ ἄριστα γένηται.
καὶ γάρ τίς θʼ ἕνα φῶτα κατακτείνας ἐνὶ δήμῳ,
ᾧ μὴ πολλοὶ ἔωσιν ἀοσσητῆρες ὀπίσσω,
120 φεύγει πηούς τε προλιπὼν καὶ πατρίδα γαῖαν·
ἡμεῖς δʼ ἕρμα πόληος ἀπέκταμεν, οἳ μέγʼ ἄριστοι
κούρων εἰν Ἰθάκῃ· τὰ δέ σε φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
αὐτὸς ταῦτά γε λεῦσσε, πάτερ φίλε· σὴν γὰρ ἀρίστην
125 μῆτιν ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους φάσʼ ἔμμεναι, οὐδέ κέ τίς τοι
ἄλλος ἀνὴρ ἐρίσειε καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων.
ἡμεῖς δʼ ἐμμεμαῶτες ἅμʼ ἑψόμεθʼ, οὐδέ τί φημι
ἀλκῆς δευήσεσθαι, ὅση δύναμίς γε πάρεστιν.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς
130 τοιγὰρ ἐγὼν ἐρέω ὥς μοι δοκεῖ εἶναι ἄριστα.
πρῶτα μὲν ἂρ λούσασθε καὶ ἀμφιέσασθε χιτῶνας,
δμῳὰς δʼ ἐν μεγάροισιν ἀνώγετε εἵμαθʼ ἑλέσθαι·
αὐτὰρ θεῖος ἀοιδὸς ἔχων φόρμιγγα λίγειαν
ἡμῖν ἡγείσθω φιλοπαίγμονος ὀρχηθμοῖο,
135 ὥς κέν τις φαίη γάμον ἔμμεναι ἐκτὸς ἀκούων,
ἢ ἀνʼ ὁδὸν στείχων, ἢ οἳ περιναιετάουσι·
μὴ πρόσθε κλέος εὐρὺ φόνου κατὰ ἄστυ γένηται
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, πρίν γʼ ἡμέας ἐλθέμεν ἔξω
ἀγρὸν ἐς ἡμέτερον πολυδένδρεον· ἔνθα δʼ ἔπειτα
140 φρασσόμεθʼ ὅττι κε κέρδος Ὀλύμπιος ἐγγυαλίξῃ.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα τοῦ μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο
πρῶτα μὲν οὖν λούσαντο καὶ ἀμφιέσαντο χιτῶνας,
ὅπλισθεν δὲ γυναῖκες· ὁ δʼ εἵλετο θεῖος ἀοιδὸς
φόρμιγγα γλαφυρήν, ἐν δέ σφισιν ἵμερον ὦρσε
145 μολπῆς τε γλυκερῆς καὶ ἀμύμονος ὀρχηθμοῖο.
τοῖσιν δὲ μέγα δῶμα περιστεναχίζετο ποσσὶν
ἀνδρῶν παιζόντων καλλιζώνων τε γυναικῶν.
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε δόμων ἔκτοσθεν ἀκούων·
ἦ μάλα δή τις ἔγημε πολυμνήστην βασίλειαν·
150 σχετλίη, οὐδʼ ἔτλη πόσιος οὗ κουριδίοιο
εἴρυσθαι μέγα δῶμα διαμπερές, ἧος ἵκοιτο.
ὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε, τὰ δʼ οὐκ ἴσαν ὡς ἐτέτυκτο.
αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσῆα μεγαλήτορα ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
Εὐρυνόμη ταμίη λοῦσεν καὶ χρῖσεν ἐλαίῳ,
155 ἀμφὶ δέ μιν φᾶρος καλὸν βάλεν ἠδὲ χιτῶνα·
αὐτὰρ κὰκ κεφαλῆς κάλλος πολὺ χεῦεν Ἀθήνη
μείζονά τʼ εἰσιδέειν καὶ πάσσονα· κὰδ δὲ κάρητος
οὔλας ἧκε κόμας, ὑακινθίνῳ ἄνθει ὁμοίας.
ὡς δʼ ὅτε τις χρυσὸν περιχεύεται ἀργύρῳ ἀνὴρ
160 ἴδρις, ὃν Ἥφαιστος δέδαεν καὶ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη
τέχνην παντοίην, χαρίεντα δὲ ἔργα τελείει·
ὣς μὲν τῷ περίχευε χάριν κεφαλῇ τε καὶ ὤμοις.
ἐκ δʼ ἀσαμίνθου βῆ δέμας ἀθανάτοισιν ὁμοῖος·
ἂψ δʼ αὖτις κατʼ ἄρʼ ἕζετʼ ἐπὶ θρόνου ἔνθεν ἀνέστη,
165 ἀντίον ἧς ἀλόχου, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·
δαιμονίη, περί σοί γε γυναικῶν θηλυτεράων
κῆρ ἀτέραμνον ἔθηκαν Ὀλύμπια δώματʼ ἔχοντες·
οὐ μέν κʼ ἄλλη γʼ ὧδε γυνὴ τετληότι θυμῷ
ἀνδρὸς ἀφεσταίη, ὅς οἱ κακὰ πολλὰ μογήσας
170 ἔλθοι ἐεικοστῷ ἔτεϊ ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι, μαῖα, στόρεσον λέχος, ὄφρα καὶ αὐτὸς
λέξομαι· ἦ γὰρ τῇ γε σιδήρεον ἐν φρεσὶ ἦτορ.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
δαιμόνιʼ, οὔτʼ ἄρ τι μεγαλίζομαι οὔτʼ ἀθερίζω
175 οὔτε λίην ἄγαμαι, μάλα δʼ εὖ οἶδʼ οἷος ἔησθα
ἐξ Ἰθάκης ἐπὶ νηὸς ἰὼν δολιχηρέτμοιο.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε οἱ στόρεσον πυκινὸν λέχος, Εὐρύκλεια,
ἐκτὸς ἐϋσταθέος θαλάμου, τόν ῥʼ αὐτὸς ἐποίει·
ἔνθα οἱ ἐκθεῖσαι πυκινὸν λέχος ἐμβάλετʼ εὐνήν,
180 κώεα καὶ χλαίνας καὶ ῥήγεα σιγαλόεντα.
ὣς ἄρʼ ἔφη πόσιος πειρωμένη· αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς
ὀχθήσας ἄλοχον προσεφώνεε κεδνὰ ἰδυῖαν·
ὦ γύναι, ἦ μάλα τοῦτο ἔπος θυμαλγὲς ἔειπες·
τίς δέ μοι ἄλλοσε θῆκε λέχος; χαλεπὸν δέ κεν εἴη
185 καὶ μάλʼ ἐπισταμένῳ, ὅτε μὴ θεὸς αὐτὸς ἐπελθὼν
ῥηϊδίως ἐθέλων θείη ἄλλῃ ἐνὶ χώρῃ.
ἀνδρῶν δʼ οὔ κέν τις ζωὸς βροτός, οὐδὲ μάλʼ ἡβῶν,
ῥεῖα μετοχλίσσειεν, ἐπεὶ μέγα σῆμα τέτυκται
ἐν λέχει ἀσκητῷ· τὸ δʼ ἐγὼ κάμον οὐδέ τις ἄλλος.
190 θάμνος ἔφυ τανύφυλλος ἐλαίης ἕρκεος ἐντός,
ἀκμηνὸς θαλέθων· πάχετος δʼ ἦν ἠΰτε κίων.
τῷ δʼ ἐγὼ ἀμφιβαλὼν θάλαμον δέμον, ὄφρʼ ἐτέλεσσα,
πυκνῇσιν λιθάδεσσι, καὶ εὖ καθύπερθεν ἔρεψα,
κολλητὰς δʼ ἐπέθηκα θύρας, πυκινῶς ἀραρυίας.
195 καὶ τότʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀπέκοψα κόμην τανυφύλλου ἐλαίης,
κορμὸν δʼ ἐκ ῥίζης προταμὼν ἀμφέξεσα χαλκῷ
εὖ καὶ ἐπισταμένως, καὶ ἐπὶ στάθμην ἴθυνα,
ἑρμῖνʼ ἀσκήσας, τέτρηνα δὲ πάντα τερέτρῳ.
ἐκ δὲ τοῦ ἀρχόμενος λέχος ἔξεον, ὄφρʼ ἐτέλεσσα,
200 δαιδάλλων χρυσῷ τε καὶ ἀργύρῳ ἠδʼ ἐλέφαντι·
ἐκ δʼ ἐτάνυσσα ἱμάντα βοὸς φοίνικι φαεινόν.
οὕτω τοι τόδε σῆμα πιφαύσκομαι· οὐδέ τι οἶδα,
ἤ μοι ἔτʼ ἔμπεδόν ἐστι, γύναι, λέχος, ἦέ τις ἤδη
ἀνδρῶν ἄλλοσε θῆκε, ταμὼν ὕπο πυθμένʼ ἐλαίης.
205 ὣς φάτο, τῆς δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,
σήματʼ ἀναγνούσῃ τά οἱ ἔμπεδα πέφραδʼ Ὀδυσσεύς·
δακρύσασα δʼ ἔπειτʼ ἰθὺς δράμεν, ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρας
δειρῇ βάλλʼ Ὀδυσῆϊ, κάρη δʼ ἔκυσʼ ἠδὲ προσηύδα·
μή μοι, Ὀδυσσεῦ, σκύζευ, ἐπεὶ τά περ ἄλλα μάλιστα
210 ἀνθρώπων πέπνυσο· θεοὶ δʼ ὤπαζον ὀϊζύν,
οἳ νῶϊν ἀγάσαντο παρʼ ἀλλήλοισι μένοντε
ἥβης ταρπῆναι καὶ γήραος οὐδὸν ἱκέσθαι.
αὐτὰρ μὴ νῦν μοι τόδε χώεο μηδὲ νεμέσσα,
οὕνεκά σʼ οὐ τὸ πρῶτον, ἐπεὶ ἴδον, ὧδʼ ἀγάπησα.
215 αἰεὶ γάρ μοι θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισιν
ἐρρίγει μή τίς με βροτῶν ἀπάφοιτο ἔπεσσιν
ἐλθών· πολλοὶ γὰρ κακὰ κέρδεα βουλεύουσιν.
οὐδέ κεν Ἀργείη Ἑλένη, Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα,
ἀνδρὶ παρʼ ἀλλοδαπῷ ἐμίγη φιλότητι καὶ εὐνῇ,
220 εἰ ᾔδη ὅ μιν αὖτις ἀρήϊοι υἷες Ἀχαιῶν
ἀξέμεναι οἶκόνδε φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἔμελλον.
τὴν δʼ ἦ τοι ῥέξαι θεὸς ὤρορεν ἔργον ἀεικές·
τὴν δʼ ἄτην οὐ πρόσθεν ἑῷ ἐγκάτθετο θυμῷ
λυγρήν, ἐξ ἧς πρῶτα καὶ ἡμέας ἵκετο πένθος.
225 νῦν δʼ, ἐπεὶ ἤδη σήματʼ ἀριφραδέα κατέλεξας
εὐνῆς ἡμετέρης, ἣν οὐ βροτὸς ἄλλος ὀπώπει,
ἀλλʼ οἶοι σύ τʼ ἐγώ τε καὶ ἀμφίπολος μία μούνη,
Ἀκτορίς, ἥν μοι δῶκε πατὴρ ἔτι δεῦρο κιούσῃ,
ἣ νῶϊν εἴρυτο θύρας πυκινοῦ θαλάμοιο,
230 πείθεις δή μευ θυμόν, ἀπηνέα περ μάλʼ ἐόντα.
ὣς φάτο, τῷ δʼ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὑφʼ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο·
κλαῖε δʼ ἔχων ἄλοχον θυμαρέα, κεδνὰ ἰδυῖαν.
ὡς δʼ ὅτʼ ἂν ἀσπάσιος γῆ νηχομένοισι φανήῃ,
ὧν τε Ποσειδάων εὐεργέα νῆʼ ἐνὶ πόντῳ
235 ῥαίσῃ, ἐπειγομένην ἀνέμῳ καὶ κύματι πηγῷ·
παῦροι δʼ ἐξέφυγον πολιῆς ἁλὸς ἤπειρόνδε
νηχόμενοι, πολλὴ δὲ περὶ χροῒ τέτροφεν ἅλμη,
ἀσπάσιοι δʼ ἐπέβαν γαίης, κακότητα φυγόντες·
ὣς ἄρα τῇ ἀσπαστὸς ἔην πόσις εἰσοροώσῃ,
240 δειρῆς δʼ οὔ πω πάμπαν ἀφίετο πήχεε λευκώ.
καί νύ κʼ ὀδυρομένοισι φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
εἰ μὴ ἄρʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη.
νύκτα μὲν ἐν περάτῃ δολιχὴν σχέθεν, Ἠῶ δʼ αὖτε
ῥύσατʼ ἐπʼ Ὠκεανῷ χρυσόθρονον, οὐδʼ ἔα ἵππους
245 ζεύγνυσθʼ ὠκύποδας, φάος ἀνθρώποισι φέροντας,
Λάμπον καὶ Φαέθονθʼ, οἵ τʼ Ἠῶ πῶλοι ἄγουσι.
καὶ τότʼ ἄρʼ ἣν ἄλοχον προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς
ὦ γύναι, οὐ γάρ πω πάντων ἐπὶ πείρατʼ ἀέθλων
ἤλθομεν, ἀλλʼ ἔτʼ ὄπισθεν ἀμέτρητος πόνος ἔσται,
250 πολλὸς καὶ χαλεπός, τὸν ἐμὲ χρὴ πάντα τελέσσαι.
ὣς γάρ μοι ψυχὴ μαντεύσατο Τειρεσίαο
ἤματι τῷ ὅτε δὴ κατέβην δόμον Ἄϊδος εἴσω,
νόστον ἑταίροισιν διζήμενος ἠδʼ ἐμοὶ αὐτῷ.
ἀλλʼ ἔρχευ, λέκτρονδʼ ἴομεν, γύναι, ὄφρα καὶ ἤδη
255 ὕπνῳ ὕπο γλυκερῷ ταρπώμεθα κοιμηθέντε.
τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
εὐνὴ μὲν δή σοί γε τότʼ ἔσσεται ὁππότε θυμῷ
σῷ ἐθέλῃς, ἐπεὶ ἄρ σε θεοὶ ποίησαν ἱκέσθαι
οἶκον ἐϋκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν·
260 ἀλλʼ ἐπεὶ ἐφράσθης καί τοι θεὸς ἔμβαλε θυμῷ,
εἴπʼ ἄγε μοι τὸν ἄεθλον, ἐπεὶ καὶ ὄπισθεν, ὀΐω,
πεύσομαι, αὐτίκα δʼ ἐστὶ δαήμεναι οὔ τι χέρειον.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
δαιμονίη, τί τʼ ἄρʼ αὖ με μάλʼ ὀτρύνουσα κελεύεις
265 εἰπέμεν; αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω.
οὐ μέν τοι θυμὸς κεχαρήσεται· οὐδὲ γὰρ αὐτὸς
χαίρω, ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὰ βροτῶν ἐπὶ ἄστεʼ ἄνωγεν
ἐλθεῖν, ἐν χείρεσσιν ἔχοντʼ εὐῆρες ἐρετμόν,
εἰς ὅ κε τοὺς ἀφίκωμαι οἳ οὐκ ἴσασι θάλασσαν
270 ἀνέρες, οὐδέ θʼ ἅλεσσι μεμιγμένον εἶδαρ ἔδουσιν·
οὐδʼ ἄρα τοί γʼ ἴσασι νέας φοινικοπαρῄους,
οὐδʼ εὐήρεʼ ἐρετμά, τά τε πτερὰ νηυσὶ πέλονται.
σῆμα δέ μοι τόδʼ ἔειπεν ἀριφραδές, οὐδέ σε κεύσω·
ὁππότε κεν δή μοι ξυμβλήμενος ἄλλος ὁδίτης
275 φήῃ ἀθηρηλοιγὸν ἔχειν ἀνὰ φαιδίμῳ ὤμῳ,
καὶ τότε μʼ ἐν γαίῃ πήξαντʼ ἐκέλευεν ἐρετμόν,
ἔρξανθʼ ἱερὰ καλὰ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι,
ἀρνειὸν ταῦρόν τε συῶν τʼ ἐπιβήτορα κάπρον,
οἴκαδʼ ἀποστείχειν, ἔρδειν θʼ ἱερὰς ἑκατόμβας
280 ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι,
πᾶσι μάλʼ ἑξείης· θάνατος δέ μοι ἐξ ἁλὸς αὐτῷ
ἀβληχρὸς μάλα τοῖος ἐλεύσεται, ὅς κέ με πέφνῃ
γήρα’ ὕπο λιπαρῷ ἀρημένον· ἀμφὶ δὲ λαοὶ
ὄλβιοι ἔσσονται· τὰ δέ μοι φάτο πάντα τελεῖσθαι.
285 τὸν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
εἰ μὲν δὴ γῆράς γε θεοὶ τελέουσιν ἄρειον,
ἐλπωρή τοι ἔπειτα κακῶν ὑπάλυξιν ἔσεσθαι.
ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον·
τόφρα δʼ ἄρʼ Εὐρυνόμη τε ἰδὲ τροφὸς ἔντυον εὐνὴν
290 ἐσθῆτος μαλακῆς, δαΐδων ὕπο λαμπομενάων.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ στόρεσαν πυκινὸν λέχος ἐγκονέουσαι,
γρηῢς μὲν κείουσα πάλιν οἶκόνδε βεβήκει,
τοῖσιν δʼ Εὐρυνόμη θαλαμηπόλος ἡγεμόνευεν
ἐρχομένοισι λέχοσδε, δάος μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσα·
295 ἐς θάλαμον δʼ ἀγαγοῦσα πάλιν κίεν. οἱ μὲν ἔπειτα
ἀσπάσιοι λέκτροιο παλαιοῦ θεσμὸν ἵκοντο·
αὐτὰρ Τηλέμαχος καὶ βουκόλος ἠδὲ συβώτης
παῦσαν ἄρʼ ὀρχηθμοῖο πόδας, παῦσαν δὲ γυναῖκας,
αὐτοὶ δʼ εὐνάζοντο κατὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα.
300 τὼ δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν φιλότητος ἐταρπήτην ἐρατεινῆς,
τερπέσθην μύθοισι, πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἐνέποντε,
ἡ μὲν ὅσʼ ἐν μεγάροισιν ἀνέσχετο δῖα γυναικῶν,
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων ἐσορῶσʼ ἀΐδηλον ὅμιλον,
οἳ ἕθεν εἵνεκα πολλά, βόας καὶ ἴφια μῆλα,
305 ἔσφαζον, πολλὸς δὲ πίθων ἠφύσσετο οἶνος·
αὐτὰρ ὁ διογενὴς Ὀδυσεὺς ὅσα κήδεʼ ἔθηκεν
ἀνθρώποις ὅσα τʼ αὐτὸς ὀϊζύσας ἐμόγησε,
πάντʼ ἔλεγʼ· ἡ δʼ ἄρʼ ἐτέρπετʼ ἀκούουσʼ, οὐδέ οἱ ὕπνος
πῖπτεν ἐπὶ βλεφάροισι πάρος καταλέξαι ἅπαντα.
310 ἤρξατο δʼ ὡς πρῶτον Κίκονας δάμασʼ, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
ἦλθʼ ἐς Λωτοφάγων ἀνδρῶν πίειραν ἄρουραν·
ἠδʼ ὅσα Κύκλωψ ἔρξε, καὶ ὡς ἀπετίσατο ποινὴν
ἰφθίμων ἑτάρων, οὓς ἤσθιεν οὐδʼ ἐλέαιρεν·
ἠδʼ ὡς Αἴολον ἵκεθʼ, ὅ μιν πρόφρων ὑπέδεκτο
315 καὶ πέμπʼ, οὐδέ πω αἶσα φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἱκέσθαι
ἤην, ἀλλά μιν αὖτις ἀναρπάξασα θύελλα
πόντον ἐπʼ ἰχθυόεντα φέρεν βαρέα στενάχοντα·
ἠδʼ ὡς Τηλέπυλον Λαιστρυγονίην ἀφίκανεν,
οἳ νῆάς τʼ ὄλεσαν καὶ ἐϋκνήμιδας ἑταίρους
320 πάντας· Ὀδυσσεὺς δʼ οἶος ὑπέκφυγε νηῒ μελαίνῃ·
καὶ Κίρκης κατέλεξε δόλον πολυμηχανίην τε,
ἠδʼ ὡς εἰς Ἀΐδεω δόμον ἤλυθεν εὐρώεντα,
ψυχῇ χρησόμενος Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο,
νηῒ πολυκλήϊδι, καὶ εἴσιδε πάντας ἑταίρους
325 μητέρα θʼ, ἥ μιν ἔτικτε καὶ ἔτρεφε τυτθὸν ἐόντα·
ἠδʼ ὡς Σειρήνων ἁδινάων φθόγγον ἄκουσεν,
ὥς θʼ ἵκετο Πλαγκτὰς πέτρας δεινήν τε Χάρυβδιν
Σκύλλην θʼ, ἣν οὔ πώ ποτʼ ἀκήριοι ἄνδρες ἄλυξαν·
ἠδʼ ὡς Ἠελίοιο βόας κατέπεφνον ἑταῖροι·
330 ἠδʼ ὡς νῆα θοὴν ἔβαλε ψολόεντι κεραυνῷ
Ζεὺς ὑψιβρεμέτης, ἀπὸ δʼ ἔφθιθεν ἐσθλοὶ ἑταῖροι
πάντες ὁμῶς, αὐτὸς δὲ κακὰς ὑπὸ κῆρας ἄλυξεν·
ὥς θʼ ἵκετʼ Ὠγυγίην νῆσον νύμφην τε Καλυψώ,
ἣ δή μιν κατέρυκε, λιλαιομένη πόσιν εἶναι,
335 ἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι, καὶ ἔτρεφεν ἠδὲ ἔφασκε
θήσειν ἀθάνατον καὶ ἀγήραον ἤματα πάντα·
ἀλλὰ τοῦ οὔ ποτε θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἔπειθεν·
ἠδʼ ὡς ἐς Φαίηκας ἀφίκετο πολλὰ μογήσας,
οἳ δή μιν περὶ κῆρι θεὸν ὣς τιμήσαντο
340 καὶ πέμψαν σὺν νηῒ φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
χαλκόν τε χρυσόν τε ἅλις ἐσθῆτά τε δόντες.
τοῦτʼ ἄρα δεύτατον εἶπεν ἔπος, ὅτε οἱ γλυκὺς ὕπνος
λυσιμελὴς ἐπόρουσε, λύων μελεδήματα θυμοῦ.
ἡ δʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
345 ὁππότε δή ῥʼ Ὀδυσῆα ἐέλπετο ὃν κατὰ θυμὸν
εὐνῆς ἧς ἀλόχου ταρπήμεναι ἠδὲ καὶ ὕπνου,
αὐτίκʼ ἀπʼ Ὠκεανοῦ χρυσόθρονον ἠριγένειαν
ὦρσεν, ἵνʼ ἀνθρώποισι φόως φέροι· ὦρτο δʼ Ὀδυσσεὺς
εὐνῆς ἐκ μαλακῆς, ἀλόχῳ δʼ ἐπὶ μῦθον ἔτελλεν·
350 ὦ γύναι, ἤδη μὲν πολέων κεκορήμεθʼ ἀέθλων
ἀμφοτέρω, σὺ μὲν ἐνθάδʼ ἐμὸν πολυκηδέα νόστον
κλαίουσʼ. αὐτὰρ ἐμὲ Ζεὺς ἄλγεσι καὶ θεοὶ ἄλλοι
ἱέμενον πεδάασκον ἐμῆς ἀπὸ πατρίδος αἴης·
νῦν δʼ ἐπεὶ ἀμφοτέρω πολυήρατον ἱκόμεθʼ εὐνήν,
355 κτήματα μὲν τά μοι ἔστι, κομιζέμεν ἐν μεγάροισι,
μῆλα δʼ ἅ μοι μνηστῆρες ὑπερφίαλοι κατέκειραν,
πολλὰ μὲν αὐτὸς ἐγὼ ληΐσσομαι, ἄλλα δʼ Ἀχαιοὶ
δώσουσʼ, εἰς ὅ κε πάντας ἐνιπλήσωσιν ἐπαύλους.
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι μὲν ἐγὼ πολυδένδρεον ἀγρὸν ἔπειμι,
360 ὀψόμενος πατέρʼ ἐσθλόν, ὅ μοι πυκινῶς ἀκάχηται·
σοὶ δέ, γύναι, τάδʼ ἐπιτέλλω, πινυτῇ περ ἐούσῃ·
αὐτίκα γὰρ φάτις εἶσιν ἅμʼ ἠελίῳ ἀνιόντι
ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων, οὓς ἔκτανον ἐν μεγάροισιν·
εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν
365 ἧσθαι, μηδέ τινα προτιόσσεο μηδʼ ἐρέεινε.
ἦ ῥα καὶ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισιν ἐδύσετο τεύχεα καλά,
ὦρσε δὲ Τηλέμαχον καὶ βουκόλον ἠδὲ συβώτην,
πάντας δʼ ἔντεʼ ἄνωγεν ἀρήϊα χερσὶν ἑλέσθαι.
οἱ δέ οἱ οὐκ ἀπίθησαν, ἐθωρήσσοντο δὲ χαλκῷ,
370 ὤϊξαν δὲ θύρας, ἐκ δʼ ἤϊον· ἦρχε δʼ Ὀδυσσεύς.
ἤδη μὲν φάος ἦεν ἐπὶ χθόνα, τοὺς δʼ ἄρʼ Ἀθήνη
νυκτὶ κατακρύψασα θοῶς ἐξῆγε πόληος.
1Then the old dame went up to the upper chamber, laughing aloud, to tell her mistress that her dear husband was in the house. Her knees moved nimbly, but her feet trotted along beneath her; and she stood above her lady's head, and spoke to her, and said:5 “Awake, Penelope, dear child, that with thine own eyes thou mayest see what thou desirest all thy days. Odysseus is here, and has come home, late though his coming has been, and has slain the proud wooers who vexed his house, and devoured his substance, and oppressed his son.”10 Then wise Penelope answered her: “Dear nurse, the gods have made thee mad, they who can make foolish even one who is full wise, and set the simple-minded in the paths of understanding; it is they that have marred thy wits, though heretofore thou wast sound of mind.15 Why dost thou mock me, who have a heart full of sorrow, to tell me this wild tale, and dost rouse me out of slumber, the sweet slumber that bound me and enfolded my eyelids? For never yet have I slept so sound since the day when Odysseus went forth to see evil Ilios that should not be named.20 Nay come now, go down and back to the women's hall, for if any other of the women that are mine had come and told me this, and had roused me out of sleep, straightway would I have sent her back in sorry wise to return again to the hall, but to thee old age shall bring this profit.”25 Then the dear nurse Eurycleia answered her: “I mock thee not, dear child, but in very truth Odysseus is here, and has come home, even as I tell thee. He is that stranger to whom all men did dishonor in the halls. But Telemachus long ago knew that he was here,30 yet in his prudence he hid the purpose of his father, till he should take vengeance on the violence of overweening men.” So she spoke, and Penelope was glad, and she leapt from her bed and flung her arms about the old woman and let the tears fall from her eyelids; and she spoke, and addressed her with winged words:35 “Come now, dear nurse, I pray thee tell me truly, if verily he has come home, as thou sayest, how he put forth his hands upon the shameless wooers, all alone as he was, while they remained always in a body in the house.” Then the dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:40 “I saw not, I asked not; only I heard the groaning of men that were being slain. As for us women, we sat terror-stricken in the innermost part of our well-built chambers, and the close-fitting doors shut us in, until the hour when thy son Telemachus called me from the hall, for his father had sent him forth to call me.45 Then I found Odysseus standing among the bodies of the slain, and they, stretched all around him on the hard floor, lay one upon the other; the sight would have warmed thy heart with cheer.
And now the bodies are all gathered together at the gates of the court,50 but he is purging the fair house with sulphur, and has kindled a great fire, and sent me forth to call thee. Nay, come with me, that the hearts of you two may enter into joy, for you have suffered many woes. But now at length has this thy long desire been fulfilled:55 he has come himself, alive to his own hearth, and he has found both thee and his son in the halls; while as for those, even the wooers, who wrought him evil, on them has he taken vengeance one and all in his house.” Then wise Penelope answered her: “Dear nurse, boast not yet loudly over them with laughter.60 Thou knowest how welcome the sight of him in the halls would be to all, but above all to me and to his son, born of us two. But this is no true tale, as thou tellest it; nay, some one of the immortals has slain the lordly wooers in wrath at their grievous insolence and their evil deeds.65 For they honored no one among men upon the earth, were he evil or good, whosoever came among them; therefore it is through their own wanton folly that they have suffered evil. But Odysseus far away has lost his return to the land of Achaea, and is lost himself.” Then the dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:70 “My child, what a word has escaped the barrier of thy teeth, in that thou saidst that thy husband, who even now is here, at his own hearth, would never more return! Thy heart is ever unbelieving. Nay come, I will tell thee a manifest sign besides, even the scar of the wound which long ago the boar dealt him with his white tusk.75 This I marked while I washed his feet, and was fain to tell it to thee as well, but he laid his hand upon my mouth, and in the great wisdom of his heart would not suffer me to speak. So come with me; but I will set my very life at stake that, if I deceive thee, thou shouldest slay me by a most pitiful death.”80 Then wise Penelope answered her: “Dear nurse, it is hard for thee to comprehend the counsels of the gods that are forever, how wise soever thou art. Nevertheless let us go to my son, that I may see the wooers dead and him that slew them.”
85 So saying, she went down from the upper chamber, and much her heart pondered whether she should stand aloof and question her dear husband, or whether she should go up to him, and clasp and kiss his head and hands. But when she had come in and had passed over the stone threshold, she sat down opposite Odysseus in the light of the fire90 beside the further wall; but he was sitting by a tall pillar, looking down, and waiting to see whether his noble wife would say aught to him, when her eyes beheld him. Howbeit she sat long in silence, and amazement came upon her soul; and now with her eyes she would look full upon his face, and now again95 she would fail to know him, for that he had upon him mean raiment. But Telemachus rebuked her, and spoke, and addressed her: “My mother, cruel mother, that hast an unyielding heart, why dost thou thus hold aloof from my father, and dost not sit by his side and ask and question him?100 No other woman would harden her heart as thou dost, and stand aloof from her husband, who after many grievous toils had come back to her in the twentieth year to his native land: but thy heart is ever harder than stone.” Then wise Penelope answered him:105 “My child, the heart in my breast is lost in wonder, and I have no power to speak at all, nor to ask a question, nor to look him in the face. But if in very truth he is Odysseus, and has come home, we two shall surely know one another more certainly;110 for we have signs which we two alone know, signs hidden from others.” So she spoke, and the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus smiled, and straightway spoke to Telemachus winged words: “Telemachus, suffer now thy mother to test me in the halls; presently shall she win more certain knowledge.115 But now because I am foul, and am clad about my body in mean clothing, she scorns me, and will not yet admit that I am he. But for us, let us take thought how all may be the very best. For whoso has slain but one man in a land, even though it be a man that leaves not many behind to avenge him,120 he goes into exile, and leaves his kindred and his native land; but we have slain those who were the very stay of the city, far the noblest of the youths of Ithaca. Of this I bid thee take thought.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Do thou thyself look to this, dear father; for thy125 counsel, they say, is the best among men, nor could any other of mortal men vie with thee. As for us, we will follow with thee eagerly, nor methinks shall we be wanting in valor, so far as we have strength.”
Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him and said:130 “Then will I tell thee what seems to me to be the best way. First bathe yourselves, and put on your tunics, and bid the handmaids in the halls to take their raiment. But let the divine minstrel with his clear-toned lyre in hand be our leader in the gladsome dance,135 that any man who hears the sound from without, whether a passer-by or one of those who dwell around, may say that it is a wedding feast; and so the rumor of the slaying of the wooers shall not be spread abroad throughout the city before we go forth to our well-wooded farm. There140 shall we afterwards devise whatever advantage the Olympian may vouchsafe us.” So he spoke, and they all readily hearkened and obeyed. First they bathed and put on their tunics, and the women arrayed themselves, and the divine minstrel took the hollow lyre and aroused in them the desire145 of sweet song and goodly dance. So the great hall resounded all about with the tread of dancing men and of fair-girdled women; and thus would one speak who heard the noise from without the house: “Aye, verily some one has wedded the queen wooed of many.150 Cruel she was, nor had she the heart to keep the great house of her wedded husband to the end, even till he should come.” So they would say, but they knew not how these things were. Meanwhile the housewife Eurynome bathed the great-hearted Odysseus in his house, and anointed him with oil,155 and cast about him a fair cloak and a tunic; and over his head Athena shed abundant beauty, making him taller to look upon and mightier, and from his head she made locks to flow in curls like the hyacinth flower. And as when a man overlays silver with gold,160 a cunning workman whom Hephaestus and Pallas Athena have taught all manner of craft, and full of grace is the work he produces, even so the goddess shed grace on his head and shoulders, and forth from the bath he came, in form like unto the immortals. Then he sat down again on the chair from which he had risen,165 opposite his wife; and he spoke to her and said: “Strange lady! to thee beyond all women have the dwellers on Olympus given a heart that cannot be softened. No other woman would harden her heart as thou dost, and stand aloof from her husband who after many grievous toils170 had come to her in the twentieth year to his native land. Nay come, nurse, strew me a couch, that all alone I may lay me down, for verily the heart in her breast is of iron.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “Strange sir, I am neither in any wise proud, nor do I scorn thee,175 nor yet am I too greatly amazed, but right well do I know what manner of man thou wast, when thou wentest forth from Ithaca on thy long-oared ship. Yet come, Eurycleia, strew for him the stout bedstead outside the well-built bridal chamber which he made himself. Thither do ye bring for him the stout bedstead, and cast upon it bedding,180 fleeces and cloaks and bright coverlets.”
So she spoke, and made trial of her husband. But Odysseus, in a burst of anger, spoke to his true-hearted wife, and said: “Woman, truly this is a bitter word that thou hast spoken. Who has set my bed elsewhere? Hard would it be for one,185 though never so skilled, unless a god himself should come and easily by his will set it in another place. But of men there is no mortal that lives, be he never so young and strong, who could easily pry it from its place, for a great token is wrought in the fashioned bed, and it was I that built it and none other.190 A bush of long-leafed olive was growing within the court, strong and vigorous, and girth it was like a pillar. Round about this I built my chamber, till I had finished it, with close-set stones, and I roofed it over well, and added to it jointed doors, close-fitting.195 Thereafter I cut away the leafy branches of the long-leafed olive, and, trimming the trunk from the root, I smoothed it around with the adze well and cunningly, and made it straight to the line, thus fashioning the bed-post; and I bored it all with the augur. Beginning with this I hewed out my bed, till I had finished it,200 inlaying it with gold and silver and ivory, and I stretched on it a thong of ox-hide, bright with purple. Thus do I declare to thee this token; but I know not, woman, whether my bedstead is still fast in its place, or whether by now some man has cut from beneath the olive stump, and set the bedstead elsewhere.”205 So he spoke, and her knees were loosened where she sat, and her heart melted, as she knew the sure tokens which Odysseus told her. Then with a burst of tears she ran straight toward him, and flung her arms about the neck of Odysseus, and kissed his head, and spoke, saying: “Be not vexed with me, Odysseus, for in all else210 thou wast ever the wisest of men. It is the gods that gave us sorrow, the gods who begrudged that we two should remain with each other and enjoy our youth, and come to the threshold of old age. But be not now wroth with me for this, nor full of indignation, because at the first, when I saw thee, I did not thus give thee welcome.215 For always the heart in my breast was full of dread, lest some man should come and beguile me with his words; for there are many that plan devices of evil. Nay, even Argive Helen, daughter of Zeus, would not have lain in love with a man of another folk,220 had she known that the warlike sons of the Achaeans were to bring her home again to her dear native land. Yet verily in her case a god prompted her to work a shameful deed; nor until then did she lay up in her mind the thought of that folly, the grievous folly from which at the first sorrow came upon us too.225 But now, since thou hast told the clear tokens of our bed, which no mortal beside has ever seen save thee and me alone and one single handmaid, the daughter of Actor, whom my father gave me or ever I came hither, even her who kept the doors of our strong bridal chamber,230 lo, thou dost convince my heart, unbending as it is.”
So she spoke, and in his heart aroused yet more the desire for lamentation; and he wept, holding in his arms his dear and true-hearted wife. And welcome as is the sight of land to men that swim, whose well-built ship Poseidon235 has smitten on the sea as it was driven on by the wind and the swollen wave, and but few have made their escape from the gray sea to the shore by swimming, and thickly are their bodies crusted with brine, and gladly have they set foot on the land and escaped from their evil case; even so welcome to her was her husband, as she gazed upon him,240 and from his neck she could in no wise let her white arms go. And now would the rosy-fingered Dawn have arisen upon their weeping, had not the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, taken other counsel. The long night she held back at the end of its course, and likewise stayed the golden-throned Dawn at the streams of Oceanus, and would not suffer her245 to yoke her swift-footed horses that bring light to men, Lampus and Phaethon, who are the colts that bear the Dawn. Then to his wife said Odysseus of many wiles: “Wife, we have not yet come to the end of all our trials, but still hereafter there is to be measureless toil,250 long and hard, which I must fulfil to the end; for so did the spirit of Teiresias foretell to me on the day when I went down into the house of Hades to enquire concerning the return of my comrades and myself. But come, wife, let us to bed, that255 lulled now by sweet slumber we may take our joy of rest.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “Thy bed shall be ready for thee whensoever thy heart shall desire it, since the gods have indeed caused thee to come back to thy well-built house and thy native land.260 But since thou hast bethought thee of this, and a god has put it into thy heart, come, tell me of this trial, for in time to come, methinks, I shall learn of it, and to know it at once is no whit worse.”
And Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “Strange lady! why dost thou now so urgently bid me265 tell thee? Yet I will declare it, and will hide nothing. Verily thy heart shall have no joy of it, even as I myself have none; for Teiresias bade me go forth to full many cities of men, bearing a shapely oar in my hands, till I should come270 to men that know naught of the sea, and eat not of food mingled with salt; aye, and they know naught of ships with purple cheeks, or of shapely oars that serve as wings to ships. And he told me this sign, right manifest; nor will I hide it from thee. When another wayfarer, on meeting me,275 should say that I had a winnowing fan on my stout shoulder, then he bade me fix my oar in the earth, and make goodly offerings to lord Poseidon—a ram and a bull and a boar, that mates with sows—and depart for my home, and offer sacred hecatombs280 to the immortal gods, who hold broad heaven, to each one in due order. And death shall come to me myself far from the sea, a death so gentle, that shall lay me low, when I am overcome with sleek old age, and my people shall dwell in prosperity around me. All this, he said, should I see fulfilled.”285 Then wise Penelope answered him: “If verily the gods are to bring about for thee a happier old age, there is hope then that thou wilt find an escape from evil.” Thus they spoke to one another; and meanwhile Eurynome and the nurse made ready the bed290 of soft coverlets by the light of blazing torches. But when they had busily spread the stout-built bedstead, the old nurse went back to her chamber to lie down, and Eurynome, the maiden of the bedchamber, led them on their way to the couch with a torch in her hands;295 and when she had led them to the bridal chamber, she went back. And they then gladly came to the place of the couch that was theirs of old. But Telemachus and the neatherd and the swineherd stayed their feet from dancing, and stayed the women, and themselves lay down to sleep throughout the shadowy halls.300 But when the two had had their fill of the joy of love, they took delight in tales, speaking each to the other. She, the fair lady, told of all that she had endured in the halls, looking upon the destructive throng of the wooers, who for her sake305 slew many beasts, cattle and goodly sheep; and great store of wine was drawn from the jars. But Zeus-born Odysseus recounted all the woes that he had brought on men, and all the toil that in his sorrow he had himself endured, and she was glad to listen, nor did sweet sleep fall upon her eyelids, till he had told all the tale.
310 He began by telling how at the first he overcame the Cicones, and then came to the rich land of the Lotus-eaters, and all that the Cyclops wrought, and how he made him pay the price for his mighty comrades, whom the Cyclops had eaten, and had shown no pity. Then how he came to Aeolus, who received him with a ready heart,315 and sent him on his way; but it was not yet his fate to come to his dear native land, nay, the storm-wind caught him up again, and bore him over the teeming deep, groaning heavily. Next how he came to Telepylus of the Laestrygonians, who destroyed his ships and his well-greaved comrades320 one and all, and Odysseus alone escaped in his black ship. Then he told of all the wiles and craftiness of Circe, and how in his benched ship he had gone to the dank house of Hades to consult the spirit of Theban Teiresias, and had seen all his comrades325 and the mother who bore him and nursed him, when a child. And how he heard the voice of the Sirens, who sing unceasingly, and had come to the Wandering Rocks, and to dread Charybdis, and to Scylla, from whom never yet had men escaped unscathed. Then how his comrades slew the kine of Helios,330 and how Zeus, who thunders on high, smote his swift ship with a flaming thunderbolt, and his goodly comrades perished all together, while he alone escaped the evil fates. And how he came to the isle Ogygia and to the nymph Calypso, who kept him there335 in her hollow caves, yearning that he should be her husband, and tended him, and said that she would make him immortal and ageless all his days; yet she could never persuade the heart in his breast. Then how he came after many toils to the Phaeacians, who heartily showed him all honor, as if he were a god,340 and sent him in a ship to his dear native land, after giving him stores of bronze and gold and raiment. This was the end of the tale he told, when sweet sleep, that loosens the limbs of men, leapt upon him, loosening the cares of his heart.
Then again the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, took other counsel.345 When she judged that the heart of Odysseus had had its fill of dalliance with his wife and of sleep, straightway she roused from Oceanus golden-throned Dawn to bring light to men; and Odysseus rose from his soft couch, and gave charge to his wife, saying:350 “Wife, by now have we had our fill of many trials, thou and I, thou here, mourning over my troublous journey home, while as for me, Zeus and the other gods bound me fast in sorrows far from my native land, all eager as I was to return. But now that we have both come to the couch of our desire,355 do thou care for the wealth that I have within the halls; as for the flocks which the insolent wooers have wasted, I shall myself get me many as booty, and others will the Achaeans give, until they fill all my folds; but I verily will go to my well-wooded farm360 to see my noble father, who for my sake is sore distressed, and on thee, wife, do I lay this charge, wise though thou art. Straightway at the rising of the sun will report go abroad concerning the wooers whom I slew in the halls. Therefore go thou up to thy upper chamber with thy handmaids,365 and abide there. Look thou on no man, nor ask a question.” He spoke, and girt about his shoulders his beautiful armour, and roused Telemachus and the neatherd and the swineherd, and bade them all take weapons of war in their hands. They did not disobey, but clad themselves in bronze,370 and opened the doors, and went forth, and Odysseus led the way. By now there was light over the earth, but Athena hid them in night, and swiftly led them forth from the city.
And now the bodies are all gathered together at the gates of the court,50 but he is purging the fair house with sulphur, and has kindled a great fire, and sent me forth to call thee. Nay, come with me, that the hearts of you two may enter into joy, for you have suffered many woes. But now at length has this thy long desire been fulfilled:55 he has come himself, alive to his own hearth, and he has found both thee and his son in the halls; while as for those, even the wooers, who wrought him evil, on them has he taken vengeance one and all in his house.” Then wise Penelope answered her: “Dear nurse, boast not yet loudly over them with laughter.60 Thou knowest how welcome the sight of him in the halls would be to all, but above all to me and to his son, born of us two. But this is no true tale, as thou tellest it; nay, some one of the immortals has slain the lordly wooers in wrath at their grievous insolence and their evil deeds.65 For they honored no one among men upon the earth, were he evil or good, whosoever came among them; therefore it is through their own wanton folly that they have suffered evil. But Odysseus far away has lost his return to the land of Achaea, and is lost himself.” Then the dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:70 “My child, what a word has escaped the barrier of thy teeth, in that thou saidst that thy husband, who even now is here, at his own hearth, would never more return! Thy heart is ever unbelieving. Nay come, I will tell thee a manifest sign besides, even the scar of the wound which long ago the boar dealt him with his white tusk.75 This I marked while I washed his feet, and was fain to tell it to thee as well, but he laid his hand upon my mouth, and in the great wisdom of his heart would not suffer me to speak. So come with me; but I will set my very life at stake that, if I deceive thee, thou shouldest slay me by a most pitiful death.”80 Then wise Penelope answered her: “Dear nurse, it is hard for thee to comprehend the counsels of the gods that are forever, how wise soever thou art. Nevertheless let us go to my son, that I may see the wooers dead and him that slew them.”
85 So saying, she went down from the upper chamber, and much her heart pondered whether she should stand aloof and question her dear husband, or whether she should go up to him, and clasp and kiss his head and hands. But when she had come in and had passed over the stone threshold, she sat down opposite Odysseus in the light of the fire90 beside the further wall; but he was sitting by a tall pillar, looking down, and waiting to see whether his noble wife would say aught to him, when her eyes beheld him. Howbeit she sat long in silence, and amazement came upon her soul; and now with her eyes she would look full upon his face, and now again95 she would fail to know him, for that he had upon him mean raiment. But Telemachus rebuked her, and spoke, and addressed her: “My mother, cruel mother, that hast an unyielding heart, why dost thou thus hold aloof from my father, and dost not sit by his side and ask and question him?100 No other woman would harden her heart as thou dost, and stand aloof from her husband, who after many grievous toils had come back to her in the twentieth year to his native land: but thy heart is ever harder than stone.” Then wise Penelope answered him:105 “My child, the heart in my breast is lost in wonder, and I have no power to speak at all, nor to ask a question, nor to look him in the face. But if in very truth he is Odysseus, and has come home, we two shall surely know one another more certainly;110 for we have signs which we two alone know, signs hidden from others.” So she spoke, and the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus smiled, and straightway spoke to Telemachus winged words: “Telemachus, suffer now thy mother to test me in the halls; presently shall she win more certain knowledge.115 But now because I am foul, and am clad about my body in mean clothing, she scorns me, and will not yet admit that I am he. But for us, let us take thought how all may be the very best. For whoso has slain but one man in a land, even though it be a man that leaves not many behind to avenge him,120 he goes into exile, and leaves his kindred and his native land; but we have slain those who were the very stay of the city, far the noblest of the youths of Ithaca. Of this I bid thee take thought.” Then wise Telemachus answered him: “Do thou thyself look to this, dear father; for thy125 counsel, they say, is the best among men, nor could any other of mortal men vie with thee. As for us, we will follow with thee eagerly, nor methinks shall we be wanting in valor, so far as we have strength.”
Then Odysseus of many wiles answered him and said:130 “Then will I tell thee what seems to me to be the best way. First bathe yourselves, and put on your tunics, and bid the handmaids in the halls to take their raiment. But let the divine minstrel with his clear-toned lyre in hand be our leader in the gladsome dance,135 that any man who hears the sound from without, whether a passer-by or one of those who dwell around, may say that it is a wedding feast; and so the rumor of the slaying of the wooers shall not be spread abroad throughout the city before we go forth to our well-wooded farm. There140 shall we afterwards devise whatever advantage the Olympian may vouchsafe us.” So he spoke, and they all readily hearkened and obeyed. First they bathed and put on their tunics, and the women arrayed themselves, and the divine minstrel took the hollow lyre and aroused in them the desire145 of sweet song and goodly dance. So the great hall resounded all about with the tread of dancing men and of fair-girdled women; and thus would one speak who heard the noise from without the house: “Aye, verily some one has wedded the queen wooed of many.150 Cruel she was, nor had she the heart to keep the great house of her wedded husband to the end, even till he should come.” So they would say, but they knew not how these things were. Meanwhile the housewife Eurynome bathed the great-hearted Odysseus in his house, and anointed him with oil,155 and cast about him a fair cloak and a tunic; and over his head Athena shed abundant beauty, making him taller to look upon and mightier, and from his head she made locks to flow in curls like the hyacinth flower. And as when a man overlays silver with gold,160 a cunning workman whom Hephaestus and Pallas Athena have taught all manner of craft, and full of grace is the work he produces, even so the goddess shed grace on his head and shoulders, and forth from the bath he came, in form like unto the immortals. Then he sat down again on the chair from which he had risen,165 opposite his wife; and he spoke to her and said: “Strange lady! to thee beyond all women have the dwellers on Olympus given a heart that cannot be softened. No other woman would harden her heart as thou dost, and stand aloof from her husband who after many grievous toils170 had come to her in the twentieth year to his native land. Nay come, nurse, strew me a couch, that all alone I may lay me down, for verily the heart in her breast is of iron.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “Strange sir, I am neither in any wise proud, nor do I scorn thee,175 nor yet am I too greatly amazed, but right well do I know what manner of man thou wast, when thou wentest forth from Ithaca on thy long-oared ship. Yet come, Eurycleia, strew for him the stout bedstead outside the well-built bridal chamber which he made himself. Thither do ye bring for him the stout bedstead, and cast upon it bedding,180 fleeces and cloaks and bright coverlets.”
So she spoke, and made trial of her husband. But Odysseus, in a burst of anger, spoke to his true-hearted wife, and said: “Woman, truly this is a bitter word that thou hast spoken. Who has set my bed elsewhere? Hard would it be for one,185 though never so skilled, unless a god himself should come and easily by his will set it in another place. But of men there is no mortal that lives, be he never so young and strong, who could easily pry it from its place, for a great token is wrought in the fashioned bed, and it was I that built it and none other.190 A bush of long-leafed olive was growing within the court, strong and vigorous, and girth it was like a pillar. Round about this I built my chamber, till I had finished it, with close-set stones, and I roofed it over well, and added to it jointed doors, close-fitting.195 Thereafter I cut away the leafy branches of the long-leafed olive, and, trimming the trunk from the root, I smoothed it around with the adze well and cunningly, and made it straight to the line, thus fashioning the bed-post; and I bored it all with the augur. Beginning with this I hewed out my bed, till I had finished it,200 inlaying it with gold and silver and ivory, and I stretched on it a thong of ox-hide, bright with purple. Thus do I declare to thee this token; but I know not, woman, whether my bedstead is still fast in its place, or whether by now some man has cut from beneath the olive stump, and set the bedstead elsewhere.”205 So he spoke, and her knees were loosened where she sat, and her heart melted, as she knew the sure tokens which Odysseus told her. Then with a burst of tears she ran straight toward him, and flung her arms about the neck of Odysseus, and kissed his head, and spoke, saying: “Be not vexed with me, Odysseus, for in all else210 thou wast ever the wisest of men. It is the gods that gave us sorrow, the gods who begrudged that we two should remain with each other and enjoy our youth, and come to the threshold of old age. But be not now wroth with me for this, nor full of indignation, because at the first, when I saw thee, I did not thus give thee welcome.215 For always the heart in my breast was full of dread, lest some man should come and beguile me with his words; for there are many that plan devices of evil. Nay, even Argive Helen, daughter of Zeus, would not have lain in love with a man of another folk,220 had she known that the warlike sons of the Achaeans were to bring her home again to her dear native land. Yet verily in her case a god prompted her to work a shameful deed; nor until then did she lay up in her mind the thought of that folly, the grievous folly from which at the first sorrow came upon us too.225 But now, since thou hast told the clear tokens of our bed, which no mortal beside has ever seen save thee and me alone and one single handmaid, the daughter of Actor, whom my father gave me or ever I came hither, even her who kept the doors of our strong bridal chamber,230 lo, thou dost convince my heart, unbending as it is.”
So she spoke, and in his heart aroused yet more the desire for lamentation; and he wept, holding in his arms his dear and true-hearted wife. And welcome as is the sight of land to men that swim, whose well-built ship Poseidon235 has smitten on the sea as it was driven on by the wind and the swollen wave, and but few have made their escape from the gray sea to the shore by swimming, and thickly are their bodies crusted with brine, and gladly have they set foot on the land and escaped from their evil case; even so welcome to her was her husband, as she gazed upon him,240 and from his neck she could in no wise let her white arms go. And now would the rosy-fingered Dawn have arisen upon their weeping, had not the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, taken other counsel. The long night she held back at the end of its course, and likewise stayed the golden-throned Dawn at the streams of Oceanus, and would not suffer her245 to yoke her swift-footed horses that bring light to men, Lampus and Phaethon, who are the colts that bear the Dawn. Then to his wife said Odysseus of many wiles: “Wife, we have not yet come to the end of all our trials, but still hereafter there is to be measureless toil,250 long and hard, which I must fulfil to the end; for so did the spirit of Teiresias foretell to me on the day when I went down into the house of Hades to enquire concerning the return of my comrades and myself. But come, wife, let us to bed, that255 lulled now by sweet slumber we may take our joy of rest.” Then wise Penelope answered him: “Thy bed shall be ready for thee whensoever thy heart shall desire it, since the gods have indeed caused thee to come back to thy well-built house and thy native land.260 But since thou hast bethought thee of this, and a god has put it into thy heart, come, tell me of this trial, for in time to come, methinks, I shall learn of it, and to know it at once is no whit worse.”
And Odysseus of many wiles answered her, and said: “Strange lady! why dost thou now so urgently bid me265 tell thee? Yet I will declare it, and will hide nothing. Verily thy heart shall have no joy of it, even as I myself have none; for Teiresias bade me go forth to full many cities of men, bearing a shapely oar in my hands, till I should come270 to men that know naught of the sea, and eat not of food mingled with salt; aye, and they know naught of ships with purple cheeks, or of shapely oars that serve as wings to ships. And he told me this sign, right manifest; nor will I hide it from thee. When another wayfarer, on meeting me,275 should say that I had a winnowing fan on my stout shoulder, then he bade me fix my oar in the earth, and make goodly offerings to lord Poseidon—a ram and a bull and a boar, that mates with sows—and depart for my home, and offer sacred hecatombs280 to the immortal gods, who hold broad heaven, to each one in due order. And death shall come to me myself far from the sea, a death so gentle, that shall lay me low, when I am overcome with sleek old age, and my people shall dwell in prosperity around me. All this, he said, should I see fulfilled.”285 Then wise Penelope answered him: “If verily the gods are to bring about for thee a happier old age, there is hope then that thou wilt find an escape from evil.” Thus they spoke to one another; and meanwhile Eurynome and the nurse made ready the bed290 of soft coverlets by the light of blazing torches. But when they had busily spread the stout-built bedstead, the old nurse went back to her chamber to lie down, and Eurynome, the maiden of the bedchamber, led them on their way to the couch with a torch in her hands;295 and when she had led them to the bridal chamber, she went back. And they then gladly came to the place of the couch that was theirs of old. But Telemachus and the neatherd and the swineherd stayed their feet from dancing, and stayed the women, and themselves lay down to sleep throughout the shadowy halls.300 But when the two had had their fill of the joy of love, they took delight in tales, speaking each to the other. She, the fair lady, told of all that she had endured in the halls, looking upon the destructive throng of the wooers, who for her sake305 slew many beasts, cattle and goodly sheep; and great store of wine was drawn from the jars. But Zeus-born Odysseus recounted all the woes that he had brought on men, and all the toil that in his sorrow he had himself endured, and she was glad to listen, nor did sweet sleep fall upon her eyelids, till he had told all the tale.
310 He began by telling how at the first he overcame the Cicones, and then came to the rich land of the Lotus-eaters, and all that the Cyclops wrought, and how he made him pay the price for his mighty comrades, whom the Cyclops had eaten, and had shown no pity. Then how he came to Aeolus, who received him with a ready heart,315 and sent him on his way; but it was not yet his fate to come to his dear native land, nay, the storm-wind caught him up again, and bore him over the teeming deep, groaning heavily. Next how he came to Telepylus of the Laestrygonians, who destroyed his ships and his well-greaved comrades320 one and all, and Odysseus alone escaped in his black ship. Then he told of all the wiles and craftiness of Circe, and how in his benched ship he had gone to the dank house of Hades to consult the spirit of Theban Teiresias, and had seen all his comrades325 and the mother who bore him and nursed him, when a child. And how he heard the voice of the Sirens, who sing unceasingly, and had come to the Wandering Rocks, and to dread Charybdis, and to Scylla, from whom never yet had men escaped unscathed. Then how his comrades slew the kine of Helios,330 and how Zeus, who thunders on high, smote his swift ship with a flaming thunderbolt, and his goodly comrades perished all together, while he alone escaped the evil fates. And how he came to the isle Ogygia and to the nymph Calypso, who kept him there335 in her hollow caves, yearning that he should be her husband, and tended him, and said that she would make him immortal and ageless all his days; yet she could never persuade the heart in his breast. Then how he came after many toils to the Phaeacians, who heartily showed him all honor, as if he were a god,340 and sent him in a ship to his dear native land, after giving him stores of bronze and gold and raiment. This was the end of the tale he told, when sweet sleep, that loosens the limbs of men, leapt upon him, loosening the cares of his heart.
Then again the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, took other counsel.345 When she judged that the heart of Odysseus had had its fill of dalliance with his wife and of sleep, straightway she roused from Oceanus golden-throned Dawn to bring light to men; and Odysseus rose from his soft couch, and gave charge to his wife, saying:350 “Wife, by now have we had our fill of many trials, thou and I, thou here, mourning over my troublous journey home, while as for me, Zeus and the other gods bound me fast in sorrows far from my native land, all eager as I was to return. But now that we have both come to the couch of our desire,355 do thou care for the wealth that I have within the halls; as for the flocks which the insolent wooers have wasted, I shall myself get me many as booty, and others will the Achaeans give, until they fill all my folds; but I verily will go to my well-wooded farm360 to see my noble father, who for my sake is sore distressed, and on thee, wife, do I lay this charge, wise though thou art. Straightway at the rising of the sun will report go abroad concerning the wooers whom I slew in the halls. Therefore go thou up to thy upper chamber with thy handmaids,365 and abide there. Look thou on no man, nor ask a question.” He spoke, and girt about his shoulders his beautiful armour, and roused Telemachus and the neatherd and the swineherd, and bade them all take weapons of war in their hands. They did not disobey, but clad themselves in bronze,370 and opened the doors, and went forth, and Odysseus led the way. By now there was light over the earth, but Athena hid them in night, and swiftly led them forth from the city.