ricken, in the hall, 
 
 
 
looking all round at the solid walls, but nowhere 
 
 
 
was there a shield or strong spear that they could grab. 
 
25 
 
 
 
So they abused Odysseus in furious words, declaring: 
 
 
 
"It's an outrage, stranger, for you to shoot men! You'll never 
 
 
 
compete in another contest! Now you've sealed your fate! 
 
 
 
The man you killed was by far the noblest of the youths 
 
 
 
on Ithake: because of that the vultures shall eat you here." 
 
30 
 
 
 
 
 
So said each of them, for indeed they supposed he'd not 
 
 
 
killed the man on purpose: poor fools, they had no notion 
 
 
 
that over them all the bonds of destruction were set. 
 
 
 
Then, with an angry glance, resourceful Odysseus replied: 
 
 
 
"You dogs, you thought that I'd never come home again 
 
35 
 
 
 
from the Trojans' land, the way you ravaged my house, 
 
 
 
and forcibly bedded my women servants, and while 
 
 
 
I was still alive, underhandedly courted my wife, 
 
 
 
with no fear of the gods who own broad heaven, 
 
 
 
or of any human reproof that might come hereafter! 
 
40 
 
 
 
Now over you all the bonds of destruction are set!" 
 
 
 
 
 
So he spoke. Pale dread possessed them all: each man 
 
 
 
looked round for a way to escape from sheer destruction. 
 
 
 
Only Eurymachos now responded to him, saying: 
 
 
 
"If you indeed are Odysseus, come home to Ithake, then 
 
45 
 
 
 
what you say about all the Achaians have done is just-- 
 
 
 
many their wanton acts, here in the house, out afield! 
 
 
 
But the man lies dead who was to blame for it all-- 
 
 
 
Antinoos! He it was who instigated these deeds, 
 
 
 
not so much out of desire or need for the marriage, 
 
50 
 
 
 
but with a different aim, not fulfilled by Kronos' son: 
 
 
 
that over well-ordered Ithake he might himself 
 
 
 
be king--and lie in wait for your son and kill him! 
 
 
 
Now he's been fairly slain, spare these people: they are 
 
 
 
your own! And hereafter we'll collect you reparation 
 
55 
 
 
 
for all that's been drunk or eaten here in this hall, 
 
 
 
each man providing you with the worth of twenty oxen! 
 
 
 
We'll requite you in bronze and gold until your heart is softened; 
 
 
 
but until that time comes no man could blame you for your anger." 
 
 
 
 
 
Then. with an angry glance, resourceful Odysseus responded: 
 
60 
 
 
 
"Eurymachos, were you to give me all you had from your fathers, 
 
 
 
all that you now possess, plus what you could find elsewhere, 
 
 
 
not even so would I stay my hands from slaughter 
 
 
 
until the suitors had paid the full price for their wrongdoing! 
 
 
 
Now it's your choice whether you'll stand and fight me 
 
65 
 
 
 
or run--if anyone here can dodge death and its spirits; 
 
 
 
but none of you, I think, will escape from sheer destruction." 
 
 
 
So he spoke: there and then their knees and hearts gave way. 
 
 
 
But Eurymachos now spoke again, and addressed them, saying: 
 
 
 
"Friends, this man won't restrain his invincible hands! 
 
70 
 
 
 
Now he's got control of the polished bow and its quiver 
 
 
 
he'll shoot from the smooth-worn threshold until he's killed 
 
 
 
every last one of us! We must think about how to fight him! 
 
 
 
So draw your swords now, hold the tables in front of you 
 
 
 
against his swift deadly arrows, and then let's all go for him 
 
75 
 
 
 
in a body, try to shift him from the threshold and doorway, 
 
 
 
then get to the city, raise a quick hue and cry. Do that, 
 
 
 
and this fellow will soon have shot his last shaft." 
 
 
 
 
 
So saying, 
 
 
 
he now unsheathed his sharp sword, fashioned of bronze, 
 
 
 
with its double edge, and made for Odysseus, yelling out 
 
80 
 
 
 
his fearsome war cry. At the same instant noble Odysseus 
 
 
 
let fly another arrow. The swift shaft struck his breast 
 
 
 
under the nipple, drove into his liver. He dropped his sword 
 
 
 
on the ground, and fell, doubled up and sprawling, over 
 
 
 
the table: the food all went flying to the ground, along with 
 
85 
 
 
 
his two-handled cup. His forehead smashed agonizingly 
 
 
 
into the ground; both feet kicked out at his chair, 
 
 
 
dislodging it. A mist closed down over his eyes. 
 
 
 
 
 
Amphinomos next attacked renowned Odysseus, charging 
 
 
 
straight at him, keen-edged sword ready and drawn, to see 
 
90 
 
 
 
if he could force him back from the doorway. Telemachos 
 
 
 
was too quick, aimed from behind with his bronze-tipped spear, 
 
 
 
and hit him between the shoulders, drove right through 
 
 
 
his breast. He fell with a thud, hit the ground forehead first. 
 
 
 
But Telemachos sprang back, left his far-shadowing spear 
 
95 
 
 
 
there in Amphinomos, much afraid that some Achaian-- 
 
 
 
while he was busy prising that long spear loose--might rush up 
 
 
 
and give him a sword thrust, catch him still stooping. So he 
 
 
 
set off at a run, quickly reached his dear father, stood close 
 
 
 
and addressed him with winged words, saying: "Father, 
 
100 
 
 
 
I'll go now and fetch you a shield and a couple of spears, 
 
 
 
and an all-bronze helmet, close-fitting at the temples. 
 
 
 
I'll arm myself too while I'm gone, and get arms for the swineherd 
 
 
 
and the cowherd too: for sure, to be in armor is better." 
 
 
 
 
 
Then resourceful Odysseus responded to him, saying: 
 
105 
 
 
 
"Run, fetch them, while I still have arrows for my defense, 
 
 
 
lest they force me away from the doors, all alone as I am." 
 
 
 
 
 
So he spoke, and Telemachos, in obedience to his father, 
 
 
 
made his way to the storeroom where their fine arms were kept, 
 
 
 
and from there collected four shields, eight spears, and four 
 
110 
 
 
 
bronze-plated helmets, decked with thick crests of horsehair. 
 
 
 
Carrying these, he quickly returned to his dear father. 
 
 
 
Then, first, he armored his own body in bronze, 
 
 
 
and the two servants likewise put on their splendid gear, 
 
 
 
and stood there flanking clever, subtle-minded Odysseus. 
 
115 
 
 
 
He, while he still had arrows for his defense, went after 
 
 
 
the suitors, one by one, never stopping, there in his house, 
 
 
 
aiming, then shooting. They kept falling, thick and fast. 
 
 
 
But when the master had no more arrows to shoot, 
 
 
 
the bow he propped up against the pleasantly sited hall's 
 
120 
 
 
 
doorpost, to stand by the bright inner walls. He now 
 
 
 
slung from his shoulders a fourfold shield, and on 
 
 
 
his powerful head next settled a well-made helmet 
 
 
 
with a horsehair plume nodding fearsomely up above, 
 
 
 
and took two sturdy spears, both tipped with bronze. 
 
125 
 
 
 
 
 
There existed a side postern set in the solid wall, 
 
 
 
flush with the top of the pleasantly sited hall's threshold, 
 
 
 
that led into a corridor and had a close-fitting door.1 
 
 
 
On this corridor Odysseus ordered the noble swineherd 
 
 
 
to keep a close watch (one man only could rush it at a time), 
 
130 
 
 
 
since Agelaos had called out to all the suitors, saying: 
 
 
 
"Friends, won't one of you now slip out by that side postern, 
 
 
 
get word to the people, raise a quick hue and cry? Do that, 
 
 
 
and this fellow will soon have taken his last shot." 
 
 
 
 
 
Then Melanthios, herder of goats, responded to him, saying: 
 
135 
 
 
 
"That won't work, Agelaos, Zeus' nursling: the fine courtyard 
 
 
 
doors are dangerously close, and the corridor is narrow: 
 
 
 
one man, if a good fighter, could hold off all comers. So let me 
 
 
 
go fetch armor for us to put on, from his private storeroom; 
 
 
 
for that, I'm certain, and no place else, is where 
 
140 
 
 
 
Odysseus and his illustrious son have stowed their gear." 
 
 
 
So saying, Melanthios, herder of goats, went up 
 
 
 
by the steps of the hall to the storerooms of Odysseus.2 
 
 
 
From there he took twelve shields, and a dozen spears, 
 
 
 
and as many bronze helmets with thick horsehair crests, 
 
145 
 
 
 
and made his way back, and quickly gave them to the suitors. 
 
 
 
Then Odysseus' knees and courage both wilted as he saw them 
 
 
 
girding themselves in armor and brandishing long spears 
 
 
 
in their hands, and huge his task now appeared to him, 
 
 
 
and at once he addressed Telemachos with winged words, saying: 
 
150 
 
 
 
"Telemachos, it must be one of the women in the halls 
 
 
 
is backing this bad fight against us--or maybe Melanthios." 
 
 
 
 
 
Sagacious Telemachos responded to him, saying: 
 
 
 
"I myself, father, made the mistake here--no one else 
 
 
 
is to blame! It was I who left the close-fitting door 
 
155 
 
 
 
of the storeroom ajar: they kept a sharper watch than I did! 
 
 
 
You go now, noble Eumaios, and shut that storeroom door, 
 
 
 
and see if it's one of the women who's behind this, or, 
 
 
 
as I suspect, Melanthios, Dolios' son." 
 
 
 
 
 
Such was 
 
 
 
the conversation between them, one to the other. 
 
160 
 
 
 
 
 
But Melanthios, herder of goats, went back to the storeroom 
 
 
 
to fetch more fine armor. The noble swineherd saw him, 
 
 
 
and at once addressed Odysseus, close by him, saying: 
 
 
 
"Scion of Zeus, Laertes' son, resourceful Odysseus, 
 
 
 
there's that dangerous busybody--the one we ourselves 
 
165 
 
 
 
suspect--off back to the storeroom! So tell me truthfully, 
 
 
 
am I to kill the man, if I prove the better fighter, 
 
 
 
or bring him here to you, to pay for the misdemeanors, 
 
 
 
all of them, that he's committed here in your house?" 
 
 
 
 
 
To him 
 
 
 
Resourceful Odysseus then responded, saying: "For sure, 
 
170 
 
 
 
I and Telemachos will hold off these haughty suitors, 
 
 
 
keep them shut in the hall here, however hard they struggle! 
 
 
 
You two should force both that man's hands and feet 
 
 
 
behind his back, lash them to boards there, dump him 
 
 
 
into the storeroom, attach a braided rope to his body, 
 
175 
 
 
 
hoist him up the tall column until he's near the roof beams: 
 
 
 
that way he'll stay alive longest and suffer real agony." 
 
 
 
 
 
So he spoke. They listened carefully and obeyed him. 
 
 
 
To the storeroom they went, unnoticed by the man inside, 
 
 
 
who was searching for armor far in the back. The two 
 
180 
 
 
 
lay in wait for him, standing on either side of the doorway. 
 
 
 
When Melanthios, herder of goats, was crossing the threshold-- 
 
 
 
in one hand a splendid helmet, and in the other 
 
 
 
an old broad shield, that was all befouled with mildew 
 
 
 
and belonged to the hero Laertes, who'd carried it when young, 
 
185 
 
 
 
but it had long been laid up, the seams of its straps were rotted-- 
 
 
 
the two sprang, seized him, dragged him in by his hair, 
 
 
 
flung him down, sore anguished at heart, on the ground. 
 
 
 
They lashed his hands and feet tight with agonizing bonds, 
 
 
 
forcing them right behind his back, exactly the way 
 
190 
 
 
 
that Laertes' son, much-enduring noble Odysseus 
 
 
 
had told them to do. They attached a braided rope to his body, 
 
 
 
and hauled him up the tall column until he was near the roof beams. 
 
 
 
Then, swineherd Eumaios, you made mock of him, saying: 
 
 
 
"This way, Melanthios, you'll keep watch the whole night, 
 
195 
 
 
 
lying there on the kind of soft bed that's proper for you; 
 
 
 
nor shall Dawn, early risen, coming up from Ocean's streams 
 
 
 
in gold-throned splendor escape your notice as you 
 
 
 
bring the suitors your she-goats to set up a feast in the hall." 
 
 
 
 
 
So he was left there, stretched tight in his deadly bonds, 
 
200 
 
 
 
while the two put on their armor, closed the bright door, 
 
 
 
and made their way back to clever, subtle-minded Odysseus. 
 
 
 
There they stood on the threshold, breathing courage, 
 
 
 
four men against a crowd of good fighters in the feast hall. 
 
 
 
Then Zeus' daughter Athene came up close to them, 
 
205 
 
 
 
assuming the likeness of Mentor, in both voice and person. 
 
 
 
Odysseus rejoiced at the sight of her, and addressed her, saying: 
 
 
 
"Mentor, defend us from harm, remember your dear comrade 
 
 
 
who used to do you good turns: you and I are the same age." 
 
 
 
 
 
So he spoke: but he guessed it was Athene the host-rallier. 
 
210 
 
 
 
The suitors across from him made an uproar in the hall 
 
 
 
and the first to rebuke Athene was Damastor's son Agelaos: 
 
 
 
"Mentor, don't let Odysseus sidetrack you with his glib talk 
 
 
 
into fighting against the suitors and giving aid to him! 
 
 
 
For this is how I think our purpose will be accomplished: 
 
215 
 
 
 
when we kill these men, both father and son, you too 
 
 
 
will be slain along with them, for the deeds you're so eager 
 
 
 
to perform in these halls: with your own head you'll pay for them! 
 
 
 
And when with the bronze we've stripped you of your violence, 
 
 
 
all the possessions you have, whether indoor or outside, 
 
220 
 
 
 
we'll add to those of Odysseus! We won't let your sons live 
 
 
 
in your halls, nor grant your daughters or your good wife 
 
 
 
the right to move freely about Ithake." 
 
 
 
 
 
So he spoke, 
 
 
 
and Athene grew even more furious at heart, 
 
 
 
and upbraided Odysseus with angry words: "No longer 
 
225 
 
 
 
is your courage steadfast, Odysseus, nor that fine prowess 
 
 
 
you showed when over Helen--high-born, white-armed-- 
 
 
 
for nine years you fought the Trojans unceasingly, 
 
 
 
and many fighters you killed in that dread conflict-- 
 
 
 
it was your advice brought down Priam's broad-wayed city! 
 
230 
 
 
 
Why then now, when you're back to home and possessions, 
 
 
 
do you wail at the thought of facing up to the suitors? 
 
 
 
So come here, my friend, stand beside me, watch me at work, 
 
 
 
and see the way, when up against hostile fighters, 
 
 
 
that Alkimos' son Mentor repays your good services!" 
 
235 
 
 
 
 
 
She spoke, yet still did not give him enough strength to prevail 
 
 
 
in his battle, was still making trial of the might and valor 
 
 
 
both of Odysseus himself and of his illustrious son. 
 
 
 
And now she flew up to a roof beam of the smoky hall 
 
 
 
and perched there in plain view, in the likeness of a swallow. 
 
240 
 
 
 
 
 
Agelaos, Damastor's son, was now urging the suitors on, 
 
 
 
with Eurynomos, Amphimedon, Demoptolemos, 
 
 
 
Peisandros, Polyktor's son, and skillful Polybos; 
 
 
 
for these were by far the most valiant of the suitors 
 
 
 
who were still alive and fighting for their survival: the pick 
 
245 
 
 
 
of the rest had already fallen to the bow and constant arrows.3 
 
 
 
Agelaos then spoke among them, addressing them all: "My friends, 
 
 
 
this man by now must surely hold up his invincible hands!