The Odyssey Page 0,15

sharp bronze, thick, long, and strong, with which she vanquishes the ranks of men,—of heroes, even,—when this daughter of a mighty sire is roused against them. Then she went dashing down the ridges of Olympus and in the land of Ithaca stood at Odysseus’ gate, on the threshold of his court. Holding in hand his brazen spear, she seemed the stranger Mentes, a Taphianb leader. Here then she found the haughty suitors. They were amusing themselves with games of draughts before the palace door, seated on hides of oxen which they themselves had slain. Near by were pages and busy squires, some mixing wine and water in the bowls, others with porous sponges washing and laying tables, while others still carved them abundant meat.

By far the first to see Athene was princely Telemachus. For he was sitting with the suitors, sad at heart, picturing in mind his noble father,—how he might come from somewhere, make a scattering of the suitors, take to himself his honors, and be master of his own. Thus thinking while he sat among the suitors, Athene met his eye. Straight to the door he went, at heart disturbed to have a stranger stand so long before his gate.3 So drawing near and grasping her right hand, he took her brazen spear, and speaking in winged words he said: “Hail, stranger, here with us you shall be welcome; and by and by when you have tasted food, you shall make known your needs.”

Saying this, he led the way, and Pallas Athene followed. When they were come within the lofty hall, he carried the spear to a tall pillar and set it in a well-worn rack, where also stood many a spear of hardy Odysseus. Athene herself he led to a chair and seated, spreading a linen cloth below. Good was the chair and richly wrought; upon its lower part there was a rest for feet. Beside it, for himself, he set a sumptuous seat apart from all the suitors, for fear the stranger, meeting rude men and worried by their din, might lose his taste for food; and then that he might ask him, too, about his absent father. Now water for the hands a servant brought in a beautiful pitcher made of gold, and poured it out over a silver basin for their washing, and spread a polished table by their side. And the grave housekeeper brought bread and placed before them, setting out food of many a kind, freely giving of her store. The carver, too, took platters of meat, and placed before them, meat of all kinds, and set their golden goblets ready; while a page, pouring wine, passed to and fro between them.

And now the haughty suitors entered. These soon took seats in order, on couches and on chairs. Pages poured water on their hands, maids heaped them bread in baskets, and young men brimmed the bowls with drink; and on the food spread out before them they laid hands. So after they had stayed desire for drink and food, then in their thoughts they turned to other things, the song and dance; for these attend a feast. A page put a beautiful harp into the hands of Phemius, forced to sing among the suitors; and touching the harp, he raised his voice and sang a pleasing song. Then said Telemachus to clear-eyed Athene, his head bent close, that others might not hear:

“Good stranger, will you feel offense at what I say? These things are all their care,—the harp and song,—an easy care when, making no amends, they eat the substance of a man whose white bones now are rotting in the rain, if lying on the land, or in the sea the waters roll them round. Yet were they once to see him coming home to Ithaca, they all would pray rather for speed of foot than stores of gold and clothing. But he, instead, by some hard fate is gone, and naught remains to us of comfort—no, not if any man on earth shall say he still will come. Passed is his day of coming. But now declare me this and plainly tell, who are you? Of what people? Where is your town and kindred? On what ship did you come? And how did sailors bring you to Ithaca? Whom did they call themselves? For I am sure you did not come on foot. And tell me truly this, that I may know full well if for the first time now