The suitors were in high spirits at the result of the meeting, and they ate heavily and drank deeply to celebrate their triumph. Hence it happened that they retired to rest earlier than usual, being drowsy from their intemperate revel; and when Telemachus returned to the banquet-hall he found all the guests departed, and the servants removing the remains of the feast. Soon afterwards Mentor appeared, and announced that the ship lay ready at her moorings outside the harbour. The stores were carried down to the sea, and stowed under the rowers' benches. "All hands on board!" cried Mentor, and took his place in the stern, Telemachus sitting by his side. The crew sat ready at their oars, the ship was cast loose from the moorings, and a few vigorous strokes impelled her into deep water. Then a strong breeze sprang up from the west, the big sail was set, and the good ship bounded joyfully over the waves, with the white wake roaring behind.

The oars were shipped, the sheets made fast, and all the company pledged each other in br.i.m.m.i.n.g cups, drinking to their prosperous voyage.

The Visit to Nestor at Pylos

I

So all night long the ship clave her way; and at sunrise they reached the flat, sandy coast of Pylos. There they found a great mult.i.tude a.s.sembled, keeping the feast of Poseidon with sacrifices of oxen. The solemn rite was nearly ended when they brought their vessel to land.

"Courage, now," said Mentor to Telemachus, seeing the young lad somewhat abashed by the presence of so large a company. "Remember whom thou seekest, and lay thy modest scruples aside. Thou seest that venerable man, still tall and erect, though he numbers more than a hundred years. That is Nestor, son of Neleus, wisest of the Greeks, a king and the friend and counsellor of kings. Go straight to him, and tell him thy errand."

Seeing Telemachus, who was a homebred youth, still hanging back, in dread of that august presence, Mentor renewed his friendly remonstrances, "What, still tongue-tied?" he said, taking him by the arm, and leading him forward. "Heaven mend thy wits, poor lad! Knowest thou not that thou art a child of great hopes, and a favourite of heaven?"

When they came to the place where Nestor was seated with his sons, they found them busy preparing the feast which followed the sacrifice.

As soon as those of Nestor's company saw the strangers they came forward in a body to greet them, and made them sit down in places of honour, where soft fleeces were heaped up on the level sand. A youth, about the same age as Telemachus, placed a goblet of gold in Mentor's hand, and gave him that portion of the flesh which was set apart as an offering to the G.o.ds. "Welcome, friend," he said, after pledging him from the cup. "Put up thy prayer with us to the lord Poseidon, for it is to his feast that ye have come. And when thou hast prayed, give the cup to thy young companion, who has been bred, methinks, as I have, to deeds of piety."

Mentor first asked a blessing on their hosts, and then prayed for a prosperous issue to their own adventure. After him Telemachus uttered his prayer in similar words, and then they all sat down to meat. When they had finished, Nestor looked earnestly at them, and asked them who they were, and what was the purpose of their journey. "Are ye merchants," he said, "or bold buccaneers, who roam the seas, a peril to others, and ever in peril themselves?"

Telemachus, cheered by good fare, and encouraged by the kind manner of Nestor, answered confidently, and explained the nature of his errand.

"Concerning all the other Greeks," he added, "we know at least the manner of their death; but even this poor comfort is denied to the wife and son of Odysseus. Therefore, if thou hast aught to tell, I beseech thee by thy friendship with my father, let me know all, and soften not the tale, out of kindness or pity to me."

"Ah! my friend," answered Nestor. "What woeful memories thou hast awakened by thy words!--perils by land and perils by water, long years of siege and battle, sleepless nights and toilsome days. Ill-fated land of Troy! the grave of Grecian chivalry! There lies heroic Ajax, there lies Achilles, and Patroclus, sage in counsel, and there lies Antilochus, my own dear son, fleet of foot and strong of hand. And art thou indeed the son of Odysseus, whom none could match in craft and strategy? But why do I ask? When thou speakest, I seem to hear the very tones of his voice. He was my friend, one with me in mind and heart, and during all the time of the siege we took counsel together for the weal of Greece. But when the war was over disasters came thick and fast upon the host. And first, division arose between the two sons of Atreus; Agamemnon wished to abide in Troy until sacrifice had been offered to appease the anger of Athene, but Menelaus advised immediate departure. The party of Menelaus, of whom I was one, launched their ships and sailed to Tenedos; there Odysseus, who had set sail with us, put back to the mainland of Asia, wishing to do a favour to Agamemnon.

But I, and Diomede with me, set forth at once, and, crossing the sea from Lesbos, came to Euboea; thence, after sacrifice to Poseidon, I steered due south, and parting from Diomede at Argos continued my voyage, and landed safe in Pylos. Thus it happened that I was not witness of the good or evil fortunes of the other Greeks on their voyage home, and know only by rumour how they fared. Of Agamemnon's fate thou hast surely heard thyself, how he was murdered on his own hearth by the treachery of aegisthus, and how the murder was avenged by Orestes. Happy the father who has such a son! And such, methinks, art thou."

"Ay," answered Telemachus, when Nestor had finished his long story, "I have heard of that glorious deed; and would to heaven that by the might of my hands I might so take vengeance on the evil men who have come to woo my mother, and who fill my house with injury and outrage."

"Ah! thou hast reminded me," said Nestor. "I heard of the shameful wrong which thou hast suffered. But do not despair! Who knows but that Odysseus will yet return, and make them drink the cup which they have filled? It may well come to pa.s.s, if Athene continues to thy house the favour which she showed thy father, plain for all eyes to see, in the land of Troy."

"Nay, 'tis too much to hope," answered Telemachus with a sigh, "the thing is too hard--even a G.o.d could hardly bring it to pa.s.s."

"Now out on thy faint heart!" cried Mentor, who hitherto had sat silent. "Better for him that his homecoming should be long delayed than that he should have died, like Agamemnon, fresh from his victory.

Heaven will guide him yet to his own door, though now he be at the uttermost parts of the earth."

Telemachus shook his head as he answered: "No more of that, I pray thee; it can never be." Then, addressing Nestor, he said: "I would fain ask thee more concerning the manner of Agamemnon's death. Where was Menelaus when that foul deed was done? And how did aegisthus contrive to slay a man mightier far than himself?"

"Thou askest well," replied Nestor. "Menelaus was far away, or we should have another tale to tell. And had the return of Menelaus not been delayed, vengeance would have been forestalled by many years.

Yea, the dogs would have eaten the flesh of that vile churl, and not a tear would have been shed for him. But this is how it fell out: while we were toiling and warring at Troy, aegisthus sat close to the ear of Clytaemnestra, Agamemnon's wife, and poured sweet poison into her mind.

For a long while she refused to hearken to his base proposals, for she was of a good understanding, and moreover there was ever at her side a minstrel, into whose care Agamemnon had given her when he went to Troy. But aegisthus seized upon the minstrel, and left him on a desert island to be devoured by carrion birds. Then Clytaemnestra yielded to his suit, and he brought her to his own house.

"But as to thy question concerning Menelaus, he left Troy in my company, as I told thee, and we sailed together as far as Sunium.

There Menelaus lost his steersman, who was visited by Apollo with sudden death, as he sat by the helm; so he remained there to bury his comrade. But his misfortunes were not yet over; for when he reached the steep headland at Malea a violent storm arose, and parted his fleet. Some of his ships ran into Crete for shelter, while he himself was carried away to Egypt, where he remained many days, and gathered store of wealth.

"Now thou understandest why aegisthus was able to work his will on Agamemnon, and why he escaped vengeance so long. For seven years he sat on the throne of golden Mycenae, and grievously oppressed the people. But in the eighth year came Orestes, and cut him off in the fulness of his sin; and on that very day Menelaus came to him, loaded with the treasures of Egypt.

"Far and long had he wandered; but so do not thou, my child. Leave not thy house unguarded, while so many foes are gathered against thee, lest when thou return thou find thyself stripped of all. But to Menelaus I would have thee go; him thou must by all means consult; for who knows what he may have learnt on that wondrous voyage? Vast is the s.p.a.ce of water over which he has travelled, not to be measured in one year by a bird in her speediest flight. If thou wilt, thou canst go to Sparta in thy ship, or if thou choose to go by land, my chariots and my horses are thine for this service, and my sons shall guide you on the way."

II

Amid such talk as this, with many a brave story "of moving accidents by flood and field," and many a pithy saw from the white-haired Nestor, who had lived so long and seen so much, the hours glided swiftly by, and the red sun was stooping to the horizon when Mentor rose from his seat and said: "We must be going; the hour of rest is at hand, and to-morrow we have far to go."

"Tarry yet a little," said Nestor, "and eat a morsel and drink a cup with us. And after that, if ye are fain to sleep, ye shall have fit lodging in my house. Heaven forbid that I should suffer such guests as you to sleep on the cold deck, covered with dew, as if I were some needy wretch, with never a blanket to spare for a friend. May the G.o.ds preserve me from such a reproach!"

"Thou sayest well," answered Mentor, "and Telemachus shall be thy guest to-night. But for me, I pray thee have me excused. My place is on the ship, that I may give an eye to the crew, for I am the only man of experience among them. And to-morrow I must go to Elis, to recover a debt of long standing due to me there. I leave Telemachus to thy care, that thou mayest cherish him and speed him on his way."

As he said these words, while all eyes were fixed upon him, the speaker vanished from sight, and in his stead a great sea-eagle rose into the air, and sped westwards towards the setting sun. Long they sat speechless and amazed, and Nestor was the first to break the silence. "Great things are in store for thee, my son," said he to Telemachus, "since thou keepest such company thus early in life. This was none other than Jove's mighty daughter, Athene, who honoured thy father so highly among the Greeks. Be gracious to us, our queen, and let thy blessing rest on me and on my house! and I will offer to thee a yearling heifer, that hath never felt the yoke. To thee will I sacrifice her, when I have made gilt her horns with gold."

Then Nestor led the way to his house, and Telemachus sat down with him and his sons in the hall. And they filled a bowl with wine eleven years old, exceeding choice, which was reserved for honoured guests.

And after they had finished the bowl, and offered prayer to Athene, they parted for the night. For Telemachus a bed was prepared in the portico, and close by him slept Pisistratus, the youngest of Nestor's sons.

When Telemachus rose next morning he found his host already afoot, giving orders to his sons to prepare the sacrifice to Athene. One was sent to fetch the heifer, another to summon the goldsmith, and a third to bring up the crew of Telemachus' ship, while the rest busied themselves in raising the altar and making all ready for the sacrifice.

Presently the heifer was driven lowing into the courtyard, and the goldsmith followed with the instruments of his art. Nestor gave him gold, and the smith beat it into thin leaf with his hammer, and laid it skilfully over the horns of the heifer. A handmaid brought pure water, and barley-meal in a basket, while one of Nestor's sons stood ready with an axe, and another held a bowl to catch the blood. Then Nestor dipped his hands in the water, took barley-meal from the basket and sprinkled it on the head of the beast, and cutting a tuft of hair from the forehead cast it into the fire. The prayer was spoken, and all due rites being ended he who held the axe smote the heifer on the head, just behind the horns. The women raised the sacrificial cry as the heifer dropped to the ground; and next they whose office it was lifted up the victim's head, and Pisistratus cut the throat. When the last quiver of life was over they flayed the carca.s.s, cut strips of flesh from the thighs, and enveloping them in fat, burnt them on the altar. The G.o.ds had now their share of the feast; the rest was cut into slices, and broiled over the live embers.

While the meal was preparing, Telemachus enjoyed the refreshment of a bath; and Polycaste, the youngest of Nestor's daughters, waited on him; for such was the patriarchal simplicity of those days. When he had bathed, and finished his morning meal, the chariot was brought out, and a strong pair of horses led under the yoke. And the house-dame came with a basket, loaded with wine and delicate viands, and placed it behind the seat. Telemachus took his place by the side of Pisistratus, who was to drive the horses; the last farewells were spoken, Pisistratus cracked his whip, and away they went under the echoing gateway, and on through the streets of Pylos.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Telemachus departing from Nestor]

That night they slept at the house of a friend, and early next day they continued their journey. The way grew steep and difficult, great ma.s.ses of mountains rose near at hand, and at length they entered a wide valley, covered with waving fields of corn. By sunset they reached the end of their journey, and drew up before the stately portals of King Menelaus.

Telemachus at Sparta

I

Menelaus was keeping the double marriage feast of his son and daughter, and his house was thronged with wedding guests. All sat silent and attentive, listening to the strains of a harper, and watching the gambols of a pair of tumblers, who were whirling in giddy reels round the hall. Presently voices were heard at the entrance, and one of the squires of Menelaus came and informed his master that two strangers of n.o.ble mien were standing without, craving hospitality.

"Shall I bring them in," asked the squire, "or send them on to another house?"

"Hast thou lost thy wits?" answered Menelaus in some heat, being touched in his most sensitive point. "Shall we, who owe so much to the kindness of strangers, in the long years of our wanderings, send any man from our doors? Unyoke the horses, and bid our new guests enter."

Four or five servants hastened to do his bidding. The horses, covered with sweat from their hard journey, were unyoked and led into the stable, and Telemachus, with his companion, was ushered with all courtesy into the great hall of Menelaus. The palace was one of the wealthiest and most splendid in Greece; and Telemachus, accustomed to a much humbler style of dwelling, stood amazed at the glories which met his eyes. After bathing and changing their raiment they returned to the hall, and were a.s.signed places close to the chair of Menelaus.

The prince greeted them kindly, and said: "Welcome to our halls, young sirs. Ye are, as I see, of no mean descent, for Zeus has set his stamp on your faces,[1] and none can mistake the signs of kingly birth. When ye have eaten, we will inquire of you further."

[Footnote 1: In Homer, all kings and their families are supposed to be descended from Zeus.]

A plentiful and delicate meal was promptly set before the young travellers, and they ate and drank with keen appet.i.te. When they had finished, Telemachus said to Pisistratus, speaking low, that he might not be overheard: "Dear son of Nestor, is not this a brave place! Hast thou ever seen such lavish ornament of silver, and gold, and ivory?

Surely such is the dwelling of Olympian Zeus; more magnificent it can hardly be."

The quick ear of Menelaus caught his last words, and he answered, smiling: "Nay, my friend, no mortal may vie with the everlasting glories of Zeus. But whether any man can equal me in riches, I know not. For indeed I wandered far and long to gather all this treasure, to Cyprus, and Phoenicia, and Egypt, to aethiopia, and Sidon, and the Afric sh.o.r.e, a land unmatched in its countless mult.i.tudes of sheep.

There the ewes bring forth young three times a year, and the poorest shepherd has abundance of cheese, and flesh, and milk. From all these lands I gathered many a costly freight, and now I dwell in the midst of plenty. Nevertheless my heart is sad, when I think of all that I have lost. Had I returned home straight from Troy, I should have come back a poor man, for my house had gone to waste in my absence; but I should not have had to mourn for the death of my brother, struck down, as doubtless ye have heard, by a murderer's hand. And then the thought lies heavy upon me of all those who fell in my cause at Troy, and especially of one who was dear to me above all, Odysseus, ever the foremost in every toil and adventure. His image haunts me by day and by night, marring my slumbers, and making my food taste bitter in my mouth. He was a man of many woes, and sorrowful is the lot of his wife Penelope and Telemachus his son."

At this mention of his father Telemachus could not control his tears, but covered his face with his mantle, and wept without restraint.

Menelaus saw his emotion, and began to suspect who he was; but for the present he said nothing.