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.
THE END