CHAPTER XLIV EURYCLEIA RECOGNIZES ODYSSEUS

Penelope admired the prudence of the poor old beggar, and called Eurycleia, bidding her to bathe the stranger's feet as carefully as if they were the feet of her master. The nurse filled a bright bra.s.s basin with warm water and knelt down to execute the command of her royal mistress, saying: "My poor Odysseus! My heart is sore for him.

Who knows but he may be wandering like thee, weary and footsore!

Perhaps he is an object of ridicule among serving-women who will not suffer him to come near the bath.

"Stranger, I will wash thy feet for the sake of my absent master, and to please that gracious queen who has commanded me to do so; but most of all because thou art in need of it through suffering. Surely I never saw anyone who bore so close a resemblance to my lord as thou."

Odysseus replied: "It has often been said that I look like Odysseus by those who knew us both, O aged dame." Then he turned his feet away from the light, for fear that Eurycleia would recognize a scar and discover who he was. But it was in vain, for as soon as she pa.s.sed her hand over it she knew it. It was a scar that came where a wild boar had once torn the flesh when Odysseus was hunting on Parna.s.sos.

The old servant was so overcome with joy that she laughed and cried at the same time. She let his foot fall against the basin, which was upset with a loud clang, while the water was spilled over the floor.

She laid her hand on Odysseus' beard, and said in a voice trembling with emotion: "Dear son, thou art Odysseus. I knew thee the moment that I touched the scar."

Then Eurycleia turned to tell Penelope that her lord had come, for the queen had not seen the upsetting of the basin. But Odysseus laid his finger on the old servant's lips, and with his left hand drew her closer and said: "Be silent. Let no one know that I have come, for I must slay the suitors by stratagem. If they know that I am here they will prevent me and destroy us all."

The loyal handmaid arose to bring another basin of water. She bathed his feet and anointed them. And he moved to the fire and took his seat, while he pulled his ragged garments over the scar to hide it, lest it might betray him.

CHAPTER XLV PENELOPE'S DREAM

When Odysseus was again seated by the hearth, Penelope began to speak to him further: "Stranger, one more question I must ask thee, and then I will leave thee, for the hour of sleep is near. All day long I keep at my tasks to try to forget my grief, for the G.o.ds have visited me with sore misfortunes. I teach my maids to spin and weave and care for the palace. But when night comes strange dreams flit through my mind, and new sorrows spring up in my heart.

"There are from day to day a.s.sembled in my home all the young men of the best families of Ithaca and the neighboring isles, who insist that I shall choose one of them for a husband. But as I am not willing to comply, they remain in my house and destroy my property. I am not able to drive them out, and do not know how to help myself. Listen to a dream I had the other night. Perhaps thou canst explain it to me.

"I dreamt that there was a flock of twenty geese in my court-yard, and they picked corn out of the water and ate greedily. Suddenly an eagle swooped down upon them from above and broke their necks and tore them to pieces. Then he flew off, leaving them scattered about the yard. I bitterly bewailed the loss of my geese, and so did my maids. After awhile the eagle came back and, perching on the roof, said to me: 'Take courage, Penelope, this is no dream. The geese are the wooers, but I, the eagle, am thy husband, and I have come to kill those impudent robbers that vex thee.'"

Odysseus answered her: "The eagle gave the right explanation, O lady.

The dream could not have had any other meaning. Odysseus will come and slay the wooers, and not one shall escape him."

"Dreams do not always come to pa.s.s," rejoined Penelope, "but I heartily wish that this might be fulfilled. Be patient a little longer, for I have one thing more to say. To-morrow is a decisive day, for it may be the one that drives me from the palace. I shall propose a contest for my hand. Twenty years ago Odysseus set up twelve axes, one behind the other, in the court. Through the rings of the handles he shot an arrow, although he stood at a great distance. I will challenge the suitors to take the same bow and send the arrow through the rings as Odysseus did. He who succeeds shall lead me forth a bride, to his own palace."

Odysseus responded: "Do not let the contest be put off. Odysseus will be at hand a long time before any of the suitors can bend his bow."

"Thy words, O stranger, are comforting," said Penelope. "I could sit and listen to thee all night. But as thou art in need of rest, I will retire to my apartment, and the maids shall spread rugs before the fire for thee." Penelope, having said this, went up to her room, her maids following her, and she wept, thinking of her royal lord, until Athena closed her eyes in sleep.

CHAPTER XLVI ATHENA ENCOURAGES ODYSSEUS

Odysseus was lying on his bed, but he could not sleep, for he was thinking how he might destroy the suitors. Suddenly Athena appeared to him, and said: "Odysseus, why dost thou lie awake? Thou art in thine own house and near thy wife and child." "All this is true, O G.o.ddess," answered Odysseus. "But I am only one and the suitors are many. How shall I, single-handed, meet this mult.i.tude of men?"

"Sleep in peace, Odysseus," returned Athena. "To lie awake saps the life and strength of men. The time has come when all thy sufferings shall end. The G.o.ds protect thee and they are stronger than armed warriors." Thus spoke the G.o.ddess, and, closing his eyelids with sweet slumber, she flew up to Olympos.

While Odysseus was sleeping, his wife had waked, and, sitting on her bed, addressed a prayer to Artemis: "Rather let me die, O G.o.ddess, than become the wife of any other man than Odysseus. The very thought vexes me day and night. Just now I had a dream. I seemed to see Odysseus just as he was when he started out for Troy. I was so glad that I could not believe that it was not a reality."

She prayed aloud, and soon daylight appeared. Odysseus heard the voice and it filled his heart with anxiety. He arose and hastily placed the rugs on which he had slept on a bench in the palace. Then he went out into the open air. Telemachos had risen also, and he went forth to the market-place. Eurycleia called the servants together and ordered them to be quick about their work, for a festival was to be celebrated that day and the wooers would come early.

There was a busy time. The menials obeyed, some bringing water, some sweeping the floors, others polishing the benches and covering them with royal tapestries. The servants of the suitors came also and cut wood for the fires. Eumaios arrived early, driving three fat hogs.

He saluted Odysseus and asked him if he were well treated by the suitors, or if they continued to scoff at him. Odysseus answered him: "May the G.o.ds punish the ruthless men who perpetrate such wrongs in a stranger's home." While they were talking together the goatherd joined him, and repeated the sneers and abuse of the preceding day.

Odysseus took no notice of it, except to shake his head as one who plans direful things.

The master herdsman now came along with a fat heifer and choice goats for the day's banquet. Offering his hand to Odysseus, he exclaimed: "Hail to thee, stranger! A long and happy life be thine! Methinks my master must be clothed in rags and wandering like thee. Thou dost bring his image to my mind. I hope he may return and drive these suitors out of his palace." "Be sure that he will come, herdsman; thou wilt see him with thine own eyes, when he slays the ruthless suitors, and then thou wilt know who is lord of the palace," replied Odysseus.

The suitors were talking apart from the rest and conspiring to take the life of Telemachos, when an eagle wheeled over their heads, tearing a timid dove. With hearts foreboding ill at this omen, they went into the hall to begin the banquet, while the herdsman went his way first saying, "When Odysseus comes, call on me, and I will show how strong my arm is to deal a blow at his enemies."

CHAPTER XLVII THE LAST BANQUET OF THE SUITORS

The suitors had now arrived in the great banquet-hall and taken their places at the tables. The servants brought bread and meat and placed it before them, while Melanthios filled their goblets with wine.

Telemachos placed Odysseus near the door, and gave him an ample supply of food, saying: "Eat and drink, stranger, without fear. None of the wooers shall a.s.sail thee, for I will stand guard."

One of the suitors, an evil-minded man with a rich father, said to his companions: "My friends, this stranger enjoys his meal greatly.

It does not become any one of us to begrudge good things to the guests of Telemachos. I, too, wish to give him a present, which he in turn may bestow on some other beggar." With that he seized an ox's foot and hurled it at Odysseus.

Odysseus dodged it by holding down his head. Telemachos grew angry and rebuked the suitor in these words: "Ktesippos, thou hast escaped death. It is well that this stranger avoided thy blow, for if thou hadst struck him, my sharp spear would have pinned thee to the wall, and thy father would have prepared a burial instead of a wedding for thee."

Dreadful forebodings of woe began to fill the hearts of the suitors.

Their speech became rambling and they laughed insanely. They ate and drank like men deranged.

Penelope now entered the great hall and took her seat upon a magnificent throne, right in front of the suitors. She heard the maudlin laughter and saw the gluttonous feasting as the revel ran high. Then Athena came and moved her mind to immediate action, and she went up to the farthest chamber with her maids, where the arms of Odysseus were stored. His bow and deadly arrows, so long unused, were there, with rich treasures and perfumed garments. She wept as she took the bow from its case and went out, followed by the servants, who carried down costly prizes, such as Odysseus gave when festivals with games were held in his halls.

She took her place, standing before the suitors, and addressed them: "Ye n.o.ble suitors, listen to my words. Cease to eat and drink and come to the contest. Too long have ye lived at my table, giving as an excuse that ye would win me as a bride. The suitor who can bend this bow and send this arrow through these twelve axes shall claim me as his wife, and I will follow him to his home."

Penelope called to the swineherd and the herdsmen to place the rings and carry the bow to the suitors. Each in turn tried to do so, but were overcome with grief at seeing their master's weapons, and laid them down.

Antinoos lifted up his voice and chid them: "Ye foolish peasants, must your eyes flow with tears at this feast? Bring the bow or leave the palace. Methinks we shall have hard work to bend this bow, for none of us have such sinews as had Odysseus."

Then Telemachos took up the bow and laughed. "I must have lost my wits," he said, "for I am glad that this contest will take place.

There is not such another woman in Greece as my stately mother. Make no delay then. I long to see the man who can bend the bow. I would that I might bend it myself and win the right to keep her in her own home. Then I should be spared the grief of losing her."

Telemachos took off his cloak and laid his sword aside. He placed the axes in a row and took the bow and made three attempts to bend it, but did not succeed. He would have accomplished the feat if he had made one more effort, but Odysseus made a sign to him to desist, so he set the bow against the wall and went back to his seat.

The first suitor to make the trial had never been pleased with the insolence of the wooers, and had great foresight and was called their seer. His hands were soft and delicate. He could not bend the bow, but he predicted that it would be the instrument to bring death to the whole crew.

Antinoos reproached him for his prophecies, and ordered Melanthios to light a fire and bring a slice of fat, that the bow might be warmed and oiled to make it pliable. They warmed it and rubbed it with oil, and tried to bend it. One after another, each in turn, they made trials, but all in vain.

In the meantime Odysseus went to the swineherd and the master of the herds, who had displayed such loyalty. He said to them: "My friends, what if Odysseus should come; would you take part with him, or join the crowd of suitors? Speak truly." The two men answered, appealing to the G.o.ds to bear witness, that they would stand by their master to the end.

"Behold," said Odysseus, "I am the master that you love. I have come to my own land after twenty years of suffering, and among all my servants I hear none pray for my return save you two. And now that you may surely recognize me I will show you the scar made by a boar on Parna.s.sos." He raised his ragged tunic for a moment and they looked at the scar. They recognized their long-lost master, and threw their arms around him and wept, and kissed his hands and feet.