The feast continued. The wooers ate and drank but were silent, for an ill.u.s.trious bard was singing to them of the Trojan war. Telemachos walked forth in the midst of them, his heart inspired with courage.

Penelope had heard the song as she sat in her chamber over the hall, and she came down the lofty stairway attended by two maids. She implored the bard, with tears to change the song, since it was the one most sacred to her and made her sad.

Then said Telemachos: "My mother, let thy heart be strong to bear this song which all men love. The bard must sing the song with which he is inspired. Retire now, I pray thee, to thy room, and take thy maids with thee. There teach them to spin and weave--a task meet for a princess. But leave to me the ordering of the feast and the care of the suitors. Such a duty belongs to a man, and the authority is mine." Penelope was amazed at his words. She withdrew to her own rooms with her attendants and wept and mourned for her absent lord until she fell asleep.

When the minstrel had finished his song, the suitors began to be noisy and riotous again. Telemachos could no longer restrain himself. "Ye insolent suitors of my mother," he said to them, "cease your uproar.

Your lawlessness knows no bounds. To-morrow I will call a general a.s.sembly of all the Ithacans and warn you to depart. If ye remain in my house wasting my goods and eating food that is not your own I will call down vengeance from the G.o.ds, and ye shall die in this very palace."

The suitors were astonished at his courage and his words. He had never before spoken out with authority. Antinoos and Eurymachos, the most insolent of them, began to ridicule him and excite the others to make fun of him. And they asked Telemachos what guest he had been entertaining so secretly and what news he had brought from his father.

The suitors danced and sang, eating and drinking, until evening, before they went home.

Telemachos then sought his own couch. His old nurse, Eurycleia, led the way with two torches. She had been a faithful servant since Laertes, in his early manhood, had bought her for the price of a hundred oxen.

Telemachos sat down on his bed, and removing his tunic handed it to the nurse, who folded it and smoothed it and hung it up. He lay down and covered himself with soft fleeces, while Eurycleia went out and carefully locked the door. But sleep did not come to him. All night he thought of what the coming day would bring.

CHAPTER x.x.xI PENELOPE'S WEB

The next morning, at dawn of day, Telemachos rose from his bed and put on his garments. He hung his sword over his shoulder and fastened his sandals on his feet and strode bravely forth. He summoned his heralds at once and bade them call a council of the Ithacans. The people came at the appointed time, and Telemachos, sceptre in hand, took his place before the a.s.sembly and called it to order.

"I have not summoned you, my friends," he said, "in order that ye may see some entertaining show, but out of dire necessity. I bring no news of war and I have nothing to say that concerns the public good. You all know the grief which has befallen me on account of my father, your king and leader, who loved you as a parent loves his children. But Odysseus is gone and there is no hope of his return.

This misfortune is not enough, for every day the young men of the leading families of Ithaca and the surrounding isles meet in my house and vex my mother with unseemly and importunate offers of marriage.

"There they are now installed, eating our food, drinking our wine, and wasting our money, for Odysseus is not here to drive them out.

I have no way of expelling them from my home. My friends, consider these wrongs and help me to drive these robbers from the house of your king. It would be a shame to the people of Ithaca if it were noised around that they left the son of their chief in the hands of plunderers without giving him help."

Thus spoke Telemachos, the tears running down his cheeks, and he threw the sceptre on the ground. The people were greatly moved, and felt pity for the youth who had to suffer such wrongs, but they were silent.

Only Antinoos, the most insolent of the suitors, took up the word and said: "Shameless Telemachos, how dost thou dare to chide us for this state of things! Thy mother is the one to blame. She has been leading us on for three whole years. She is skilful and crafty. She promised, three years ago, to choose one of us for a husband as soon as she should finish the winding-sheets for old Laertes in case of his death.

"Then she began to weave upon her loom a dainty web of vast length and width. And she said to each one of us: 'Do not urge me to marry, I pray, until I finish these shrouds for the hero Laertes, when his hour of death shall come. I have spun an abundance of fine thread, and it must not be wasted. Besides that, the dames of Greece would speak ill of me if I should leave my husband's father without a shroud, for he has had great wealth all his life.' In this way Penelope gave us hope, and we were too generous to persist in forcing her to choose at once.

"She went on in this way, weaving the great web by day, and every night she unravelled by torchlight all that she had woven by sunlight.

She has deceived us long enough. We have discovered her fraud; for a woman who has seen her unravelling the web has told us all about it. She must finish the work and make her choice among her suitors.

If thou dost wish us to leave thy house, thou shalt send thy mother to her parents and let her father command her to marry one of us, according to her choice. When this is done no one will disturb thee any longer.

"If, however, Penelope prefers to treat the n.o.ble sons of Greece with such malice and craft, we will go right on consuming thy goods. She will thus make a great name for herself, but she will impoverish thee."

"I shall never send my mother away from her husband's house," rejoined Telemachos. "Living or dead, my father is in distant lands, and if I should dismiss his wife of my own will, I should invite the hatred of the G.o.ds on my guilty head. She would call upon the Furies to haunt me; all men would curse me; and her father would demand ample satisfaction of me. I will never speak the word to send her forth.

Now, get you gone and cease squandering my riches or I will call down the wrath of the G.o.ds on you."

Having said this, Telemachos sat down, and Zeus sent two eagles flying over the heads of the wooers, close to each other. They looked down upon the crowd of people and tore each other's heads and vanished.

The Ithacans saw the deadly omen, and a venerable prophet among them stood up and said: "n.o.ble youths, I advise you seriously to depart from this royal house, for this is a sign that Odysseus is coming home. Woe to you if he finds you in his palace. You will all meet a direful end."

Eurymachos answered him: "Old man, keep thy advice and thy forebodings for thine own children. We do not need them. Advise Telemachos to change his mind and send his mother home to her father, instead of prating foolishly to us. As long as he keeps her here we shall continue to consume his wealth, until he has nothing left. And we will punish thee severely if thou dost incite this young man to violence."

Telemachos, thinking it best to be discreet, replied: "Now hear me, Eurymachos, and all ye suitors. Give me a good ship and twenty men, that I may go from land to land in search of my father. If I find that he lives and may return, I will wait one year longer for him to reach home. But if I hear that he is not alive, I will come back and build a mound to his memory and give him a funeral worthy of such a king. Then shall my mother make her choice and wed."

Mentor, the stanch friend and adviser of Odysseus, sat among the Ithacans in the a.s.sembly. When he saw how Telemachos was put to shame, he grew angry. He rose to his feet, and addressed the people: "No king ever again should be wise and good. He should be hard and unjust, since no one of you has enough love for Odysseus to stand by his son.

I am less ashamed of the impudent suitors, than I am of the weaklings who see what they are doing and who dare not interfere."

"Foolish old Mentor," said one of the suitors, "what art thou saying!

If Odysseus, himself, should come hither, he would not be able to drive us out. If anyone thinks himself strong enough to do it, let him try it. Ye Ithacans disperse to your homes, and leave Mentor to provide the boy with a ship." So saying he dispersed the crowd, and the wooers all went into the palace to continue their revelry.

CHAPTER x.x.xII THE JOURNEY OF TELEMACHOS

Telemachos left the a.s.sembly and went down to the sea-sh.o.r.e alone, and washing his hands in the surf called on the G.o.ddess who had appeared to him the day before to come to his a.s.sistance. At once Athena stood by his side in the guise and with the voice of Mentor.

She urged him to hasten his journey. Telemachos took new courage, and returned at once to his house where he found his old nurse, Eurycleia, alone. He revealed to her his intention, and asked her to a.s.sist him in getting everything ready for the journey. He bade her draw twelve jars of the best wine, and twelve skins of the finest meal to put aboard the ship.

When the old nurse heard this she wept and beat her breast. "Dear child," she said, "who has put such a thought into thy mind? Why shouldst thou, an only son and well beloved, wander off to a distant land? Be warned by what thy father had to suffer because he left his own country. The suitors will plot to kill thee and divide thy wealth.

Stay here, at home; there is no need that thou shouldst venture over the fearful sea."

Telemachos answered her: "Take courage, my good nurse; this journey is advised of a G.o.d. Do not let my mother know of my departure for eleven or twelve days, lest she weep and mourn."

The nurse promised most solemnly that she would keep his secret and execute his orders. She drew the wine into the jars and filled the strong skins with meal. Meantime, Athena, blue-eyed G.o.ddess, taking the form of Telemachos, went through the city and urged the men to repair to the ships at sundown, for she had chosen the best boats in Ithaca for the youth, and found for him a crew that was glad to serve him.

Then the blue-eyed maid went to the palace and poured sleep upon the eyelids of the drunken suitors. They gladly sought their beds in their own homes. Taking the form of Mentor, she next appeared to Telemachos and bade him follow her to the beach. When they reached the galley, he found his comrades waiting. They hurried up to the palace for the wine and meal, which they soon brought to the ship and stored in the hold. Then the crew slipped the cables which held the ship to the sh.o.r.e. Athena took her seat at the stern and Telemachos sat near her.

The sails were spread and the sailors began to ply their oars. Athena raised a favorable breeze and the vessel glided forward cutting her way through the roaring waters.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII TELEMACHOS IN PYLOS

At sunrise the ship arrived at Pylos. The people of that town were all a.s.sembled on the sh.o.r.e, where they were sacrificing coal-black oxen to Poseidon. Some were burning fat upon the altar, and others were distributing food among those who were offering up the sacrifices, while all were eating.

The Ithacans touched land. Telemachos and Athena disembarked, leaving the crew to guard the ship, and went up to the crowd. On the way Athena cheered Telemachos and advised him what to say to the people.

When they had come near enough to the inhabitants to be seen by them, the people rose and came to meet the strangers. First of all, the son of Nestor, Peisistratos, approached and took each of them by the hand and led them to the feast. He bade them be seated near his father and brought them the choicest meat.

After the strangers had eaten, Peisistratos filled a golden goblet with wine, and handed it to Mentor, as the elder. Mentor was pleased with the young man's good breeding and he took the goblet and poured out a part of it on the ground as a sacrifice to Poseidon, with a prayer for a safe return. Then he handed the goblet to Telemachos, and he did likewise.

When the feast was over, Nestor, the King of Pylos, said to his guests: "The time has come, dear strangers, when it is fitting to ask your names, and from what land you come. Do you roam the seas as pirates, or do you come on an errand?"

"We are Greeks," said Telemachos. "We come from Ithaca to seek tidings of my father, the unfortunate Odysseus, who went to war against Troy with thee and the other Greek chiefs. We have never heard anything of him during all these long years and do not know whether he is living or dead. I pray thee tell me anything thou may'st know about him, and conceal nothing."

"My son," Nestor replied, "thou dost call to mind the great sufferings borne by the men of Greece ere we succeeded in conquering Priam's town. It would take years to tell thee of the brave deeds of the Greeks, how they fought and where they fell. We pa.s.sed nine years in worrying the enemy, and there was no man who gave better counsel or performed n.o.bler deeds than did Odysseus. Art thou then his son? I look on thee in wonder. Yes, thou art like him. How strange to hear so young a man speak as he did!

"After the destruction of Troy, the surviving Greeks embarked, and we set out for home. But when we reached Tenedos, thy father returned to Troy to join Agamemnon and the others, who had stayed behind, to appease the wrath of Athena, for a Greek had committed sacrilege in her temple.

"Our voyage was prosperous, and we all reached home except Menelaos, who wandered about in Crete and Egypt for a long time. It is said that the n.o.ble son of Achilles returned home safely, and that Agamemnon was slain in his own house, and his son took vengeance on his murderers. There is a rumor, too, that many suitors hang about thy mother, and, in spite of thy remonstrances, consume thy riches.

Be brave, my son, and yield not. Odysseus may come again. Go at once to Menelaos, for he may have news of thy father. I will give thee swift horses and a chariot, and my sons will drive."