and in threadbare clothes? Men's span of life is brief.
Whoever is harsh himself, whose mind knows harshness,
on him all mortals invoke disaster for the future
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while he lives, and the whole world mocks him once he's dead.
But whoever is blameless himself, and has blameless thoughts,
strangers will spread his renown both far and wide
among all mankind, and many will praise his nobility."
Resourceful Odysseus then responded to her, saying:
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"Respected wife of Odysseus, son of Laertes,
coverlets and bright-colored blankets have been hateful
to me ever since I left Krete's snow-clad mountains
behind me, and sailed away in my long-oared ship.
I shall bed down as I've done on other sleepless nights:
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many the nights I've spent on some wretched resting place,
lying there waiting for the brightly enthroned Dawn!
Nor does the washing of feet bring solace of any kind
to my heart: there isn't a woman that shall touch my feet
of all the servants you have here in this house--unless
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there's maybe some aged woman, with a devoted heart,
who's suffered as much in her spirit as I have myself:
I wouldn't have any objection to her handling my feet."
Once more prudent Penelope responded to him, saying:
"Dear guest, never yet, of the strangers from distant places,
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has a man so sagacious been more welcome in my home--
so well-phrased and responsible is everything you say!
I do have one such old woman, very sensible-minded,
who nursed and cared for that unfortunate man,
cradled him in her arms the day his mother bore him.
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It's she who shall wash your feet, enfeebled though she is.
Come on, up with you now, my prudent Eurykleia,
and wash one of an age with your master: Odysseus, I'm sure,
must by now have just such feet and just such hands,
for too soon does the stress of ill-fortune age us mortals."
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So she spoke: the old woman hid her face in her hands,
shed hot tears, then uttered words of lamentation, saying:
"Alas, child, for you I am helpless. Zeus must have hated you--
devout heart though you had--beyond all other men.12
Never yet to Zeus, hurler of thunderbolts, did a mortal
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burn so many fat thighs, such splendid arrays of oxen
as you offered up, with prayers that you might achieve
a sleek old age and rear your illustrious son. But now
you alone he's wholly deprived of a day of homecoming!
He too, I imagine, was jeered at by the women
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of far-distant strangers, when he came to some house of renown,
just as these bitches here all together are making fun of you,
and it's to avoid their mistreatment and endless insults
that you won't let them wash you; so it's me, nothing loath, to whom
Ikarios' prudent daughter Penelope's given the job.
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So I'll wash your feet, for both Penelope's sake and yours,
since the heart in my breast is stirred by sorrow. But now
take good note of what I'm about to say to you:
Many a travel-worn stranger's made his way here, but none,
I tell you, have I yet seen who bore so close a resemblance
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as you do--voice, build, and gait--to Odysseus himself."
To her resourceful Odysseus then responded, saying:
"Old dame, that's what everyone says who's seen us both:
that we resemble each other closely--a likeness
that you too now have noticed, and remarked on."
So he spoke.
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The old woman took the bright cauldron, and prepared
to wash him. She first poured out a lot of cold water,
then added some hot. But Odysseus sat down by the hearth,
and at once turned away toward the darker side, because
he'd suddenly realized that when she was handling him
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she would notice the scar, and the truth would be revealed.
And indeed, as she settled in close to wash her lord, she did
at once know the scar, of a wound that a boar's white tusk
had made when he went to Parnassos, to Autolykos and his sons--
his mother's noble father, who outstripped all mankind
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in thieving and artful oaths, a talent bestowed by a god--
Hermes, to whom he burned acceptable thigh pieces
of lambs and kids, and so was quite ready to protect him.
Now Autolykos paid a visit to the rich land of Ithake,
where he found the son of his daughter, recently born,
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and Eurykleia placed the baby on his knees at the moment he
was finishing supper, then spoke, and addressed him, saying:
"Autolykos, up to you now to find a name to bestow on
your own child's dear child: he has been much prayed for." To her
Autolykos then responded, saying: "My daughter's husband,13
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and you, my daughter, give him the name I shall tell you.
Since I come here as one who's dealt pain and grief to many,
men and women alike, over the fruitful earth,
let his name be Odysseus;14 and I, for my part, when he
comes as a grown man to the great house on Parnassos
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of his mother's family, where I keep my possessions,
will give him his share, and send him back rejoicing."
This was what Odysseus had come for, to get his splendid gifts.
Autolykos greeted him, and the sons of Autolykos too,
with handshakes and expressions of cordial welcome,
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and his mother's mother, Amphithee, embraced Odysseus,
and kissed his head and both of his beautiful eyes,
and Autolykos gave the word to his illustrious sons
to get dinner ready, and they responded to his call.
At once they brought in a male ox, five years old,
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flayed it, dressed it, butchered the whole carcass,
expertly cut up the pieces and threaded them on spits,
roasted these carefully and then shared out the portions.
So all day long until the hour when the sun went down
they feasted, and no one lacked his fair share of the meal.
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But after the hour of sunset, when darkness came on,
then they retired to rest, and embraced the gift of sleep.
When Dawn appeared, early risen and rosy-fingered,
they sallied forth on the hunt, both the dogs and the sons
of Autolykos: and along with them noble Odysseus
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went too. Up the steep slopes of the forest-clad mountain
Parnassos they climbed, and soon reached its windy ravines.
The sun was just striking the fields below on its way
up from the peaceful and deep-flowing stream of Ocean
when the hunters came to a forest glen. Ahead of them went
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the dogs, pursuing a scent, and close behind them
Autolykos' sons, among them noble Odysseus, hard on
the heels of the dogs, and brandishing his far-shadowing spear.
There, in a dense thicket, was crouched a huge wild boar.
The damp force of driving winds could not penetrate its lair,
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nbsp; 440
nor the sun with its gleaming rays shine into it, nor the rain
pierce right through its protection, so thick it was; and the drifts
of fallen leaves had piled up in their abundance round it.
Now the boar heard the sound of footfalls, from men and dogs
pressing on in the hunt, and out from his lair he came
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to face them, back all abristle, fire glinting from his eyes,
and stood close at bay. Then, first of them all, Odysseus
sprang forward, long spear raised high in his stout hand,
ready to strike; but the boar beat him to it, gored him
above the knee, tore with his tusk a long gash in the flesh,
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attacking him slantwise, but failed to reach his leg-bone;
and Odysseus struck him squarely in the right shoulder,
so that the bright spear's point now drove clean through.
The boar gasped, and fell in the dust, and the life fled from him.
Autolykos' sons then busied themselves with the carcass,
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and the wound that blameless godlike Odysseus had suffered
they skillfully bandaged, and stanched the flow of dark blood
with a charm,15 then went straight back to their father's house.
So Autolykos, and the sons of Autolykos, healed him
fully and well, handed over his splendid gifts, and then
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soon sent him back rejoicing to his native country,
to Ithake; and there his father and lady mother
welcomed him home with pleasure, asked detailed questions
about how he came to be wounded; he told them the way
the boar's white tusk had gored him when he was out hunting
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up on Parnassos, together with the sons of Autolykos.
This scar the old woman recognized when she felt it
in the palms of her hands, and she dropped his leg. It fell
shin first into the basin, with a clatter of bronze:
the basin tipped over, the water spilled out on the floor,
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as joy and grief together invaded her heart, her eyes
filled with tears, and her voice stuck in her throat.
Her hand reached out to touch Odysseus' chin, she gasped:
"It's you, Odysseus, dear child, and I didn't know you
until I'd handled the rest of my master's person!"
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With that she turned her glance in Penelope's direction,
wanting to show her that her dear husband was there,
but Athene distracted Penelope's mind, so she could neither
meet her eye nor guess at her meaning. As for Odysseus,
he felt for Eurykleia's throat with his right hand, seized it,
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with the other drew her close to him, and whispered, saying:
"Old nurse, are you trying to kill me? You yourself suckled me
at your own breast! And now, after suffering much,
I've come, in the twentieth year, back to my own country!
But since you've hit on the truth, and a god's alerted you,
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hush now, don't let anyone else in the house find out!
For if you do, this I tell you, and it shall come to pass:
should some god let me put down these lordly suitors,
I shall not spare you, my nurse though you were, when I slay
those other serving women, here in my halls."
Then prudent
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Eurykleia responded to him, saying: "My child,
what's this word that's escaped the barrier of your teeth?
You know how firm my strength is, how unyielding--
I shall keep your secret as close as hard stone or iron!
And another thing I will tell you, and you take it to heart:
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If some god lets you put down these lordly suitors,
then I'll report to you on the women in your halls,
which ones dishonor you, and which remain innocent."
To her resourceful Odysseus then responded, saying:
"Old mother, why tell me of them? There's no need! I myself
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shall take good note and discover the truth about each one.
No, just keep my secret, and leave the rest to the gods."
So he spoke. The old woman went off through the hall to fetch
fresh foot-washing water, for the first lot was all spilt;
and when she'd washed him, and rubbed him well with oil,
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Odysseus once more drew his chair back nearer the fire
to warm himself, and concealed the scar beneath his rags.
Then prudent Penelope started their conversation, saying:
"Stranger, there's one small thing I still must ask you,
since soon it will be the time for pleasant repose--at least,
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for him whom sweet sleep possesses despite his cares!
But to me some deity's brought a sorrow that's measureless:
by day I find my pleasure in mourning and lamentation,
while I look to my household tasks, and those of my women;
but when night comes, and sleep catches everybody else,
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I lie on my bed, and around my throbbing heart
sharp cares come crowding, to disquiet me as I lament.
Just as Pandareus' daughter, the greenwood nightingale,
at the fresh onset of spring sings sweetly, sitting
perched amid the thick foliage of the trees, and with
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close variant trills pours forth her rippling song, a dirge
lamenting her dear son Itylos, the son of King Zethos,16
whom once with the bronze she slew unwittingly--even so
my heart's torn in two directions, this way and that:
should I stay here with my son, keep everything unchanged--
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property, serving women, this large and high-roofed house--
respecting the bed of my husband and public opinion?
Or should I now wed whoever's the best of the Achaians
courting me here in my halls, bringing me countless gifts?
So long as my son was thinking and behaving as a child,
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he wouldn't let me abandon my husband's house to remarry;
but now he's full-grown and has come to manhood's stature
he even begs me to go back home, so concerned he's become
for his patrimony, which these Achaians are eating up.17
"But come, hear this dream of mine, and interpret it for me:
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I had twenty geese round the house, they came up from the water
and I fed them on wheat: the sight of them warmed my heart.
But down from the mountain swooped a great eagle, with curved beak,
broke all their necks and killed them. They lay scattered
all over the hall, while the eagle soared up in the bright sky.
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I wept and wailed, although it was only a dream,
and the fine-tressed Achaian women gathered around me
as I grieved sadly because the eagle had killed my geese.
But then back it came, perched on a jutting rafter,
and with the voice of a human caught me short, declaring:
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'Take heart, you daughter of far-famed Ikarios: this
is no dream, but a true vision, that will surely be fulfilled!
These geese are the suitors,18 and I, who before was a bird,
the eagle, have now at last come back as your husband,
who'll unleash a grim fate on all the suitors.'
So he spoke.
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Then honey-sweet sleep released i
ts hold upon me,
and glancing around I saw the geese in my domain
pecking up grain by the trough, as they'd done previously."
Then resourceful Odysseus responded to her, saying: