The Odyssey by Homer (best novels in english txt) 📕

enough,
O suitors, that while I was yet a child
Ye wasted on your revelries my large
And rich possessions? Now that I am grown,
And, when I hear the words of other men,
Discern their meaning, now that every day
Strengthens my spirit, I will make the attempt
To bring the evil fates upon your heads,
Whether I go to Pylos or remain
Among this people. I shall surely make
This voyage, and it will not be in vain.
Although I go a passenger on board
Another’s ship⁠—since neither ship have I
Nor rowers⁠—ye have judged that so were best.”

He spake, and quickly from the suitor’s hand
Withdrew his own. The others who prepared
Their banquet in the palace scoffed at him,
And flung at him their bitter taunts, and one
Among the insolent youths reviled him thus:⁠—

“Telemachus is certainly resolved
To butcher us. He goes to bring allies
From sandy Pylos or the Spartan coast,
He is so bent on slaughter. Or perhaps
He visits the rich land of Ephyrè
In search of deadly poisons to be thrown
Into a cup and end us all at once.”

Then said another of the haughty youths:⁠—
“Who knows but, wandering in his hollow barque,
He too may perish, far from all his friends,
Just as Ulysses perished? This would bring
Increase of labor; it would cast on us
The trouble to divide his goods, and give
His palace to his mother, and to him
Who takes the woman as his wedded wife.”

So spake they, but Telemachus went down
To that high-vaulted room, his father’s, where
Lay heaps of gold and brass, and garments store
In chests, and fragrant oils. And there stood casks
Of delicate old wine and pure, a drink
For gods, in rows against the wall, to wait
If ever, after many hardships borne,
Ulysses should return. Upon that room
Close-fitting double doors were shut, and there
Was one who night and day kept diligent watch,
A woman, Eurycleia, child of Ops,
Peisenor’s son. Telemachus went in
And called her to him, and bespake her thus:⁠—

“Nurse, let sweet wine be drawn into my jars,
The finest next to that which thou dost keep
Expecting our unhappy lord, if yet
The nobly born Ulysses shall escape
The doom of death and come to us again.
Fill twelve, and fit the covers close, and pour
Meal into well-sewn skins, and let the tale
Be twenty measures of the flour of wheat.
This none but thou must know. Let all these things
Be brought together; then, as night shuts in,
When to her upper chamber, seeking rest,
My mother shall withdraw, I come and take
What thou providest for me. I am bound
For Sparta and for Pylos in the sands,
To gather news concerning the return
Of my dear father, if I haply may.”

So spake the youth, and his beloved nurse
Sobbed, wept aloud, and spake these winged words:⁠—

“Why should there come, dear child, a thought like this
Into thy heart. Why wouldst thou wander forth
To distant regions⁠—thou an only son
And dearly loved? Ulysses, nobly born,
Has perished, from his native land afar,
’Mid a strange race. These men, when thou art gone,
At once will lay their plots to take thy life,
And share thy wealth among them. Stay thou here
Among thy people; need is none that thou
Shouldst suffer, roaming o’er the barren deep.”

Then spake discreet Telemachus again:⁠—
“Be of good cheer, O nurse, for my design
Is not without the sanction of a god;
But swear thou not to let my mother know
Of my intent until the eleventh day
Or twelfth shall pass, or till, in missing me,
She learn of my departure, lest she weep
And stain with tears the beauty of her face.”

He spake; the ancient woman solemnly
Swore by the gods, and when the rite was o’er
Drew wine into the jars, and poured the meal
Into the well-sewn skins. Telemachus
Entered the hall and joined the suitor train.

Then did the blue-eyed goddess turn her thoughts
To other plans, and taking on herself
The semblance of Telemachus, she ranged
The city, speaking to each man in turn,
And bidding him at nightfall to repair
To where the good ship lay. That gallant ship
She begged of the renowned Noëmon, son
Of Phronius, who with cheerful grace complied.

The sun went down, the city streets lay all
In shadow. Then she drew the good ship down
Into the sea, and brought and put on board
The appointments every well-built galley needs,
And moored her at the bottom of the port,
Where, in a throng, obedient to the word
Of Pallas, round her came her gallant crew.

With yet a new device the blue-eyed maid
Went to the palace of the godlike chief
Ulysses, where she poured a gentle sleep
Over the suitors. As they drank she made
Their senses wander, and their hands let fall
The goblets. Now no longer at the board
They sat, but sallied forth, and through the town
Went to their slumbers, for the power of sleep
Had fallen heavily upon their lids.
Then blue-eyed Pallas from those sumptuous halls
Summoned Telemachus. She took the form
And voice of Mentor, and bespake him thus:⁠—

“Telemachus, already at their oars
Sit thy well-armed companions and await
Thy coming; let us go without delay.”

Thus having spoken, Pallas led the way
With rapid footsteps which he followed fast;
Till having reached the galley and the sea
They found their long-haired comrades at the beach,
And thus the gallant prince Telemachus
Bespake them: “Hither, comrades, let us bring
The sea-stores from the dwelling where they lie;
My mother knows not of it, nor her maids;
The secret has been told to one alone.”

He spake, and went before them. In his steps
They followed. To the gallant barque they brought
The stores, and, as the well-beloved son
Of King Ulysses bade, they laid them down
Within the hull. Telemachus went up
The vessel’s side, but Pallas first embarked,
And at the stern sat down, while next to her
Telemachus was seated. Then the crew
Cast loose the fastenings and went all on board,
And took their places on the rowers’ seats,
While blue-eyed Pallas sent a favoring breeze,
A fresh wind from the west, that murmuring swept
The dark-blue main. Telemachus gave forth
The word to wield the tackle; they obeyed,
And raised the fir-tree mast, and, fitting it
Into its socket, bound it fast with cords,
And drew and spread with firmly twisted ropes
The shining sails on high. The steady wind
Swelled out the canvas in the midst; the ship
Moved on, the dark sea roaring round her keel,
As swiftly through the waves she cleft her way.
And when the rigging of that swift black ship
Was