Then these two went back to the hall, and there also came Athene, having the shape of Mentor. Still, for she would yet further try the courage of Ulysses and his son, she helped them not as yet, but, changing her shape, sat on the roof-beam like unto a swallow.

And then cried Agelaus: "Friends, Mentor is gone, and helps them not. Let us not cast our spears at random, but let six come on together; perchance we may prevail against them."

Then they cast their spears, but Athene turned them aside, one to the pillar, and another to the door, and another to the wall. But Ulysses and Telemachus and the two herdsmen slew each his man; and yet again they did so, and again. Only Amphimedon [Footnote: Am- phim'-e-don.]wounded Telemachus, and Ctesippus grazed the shoulder of Eumaeus. But Telemachus struck down Amphimedon, and the herdsman of the kine slew Ctesippus, saying: "Take this, for the ox-foot which thou gavest to our guest." And all the while Athene waved her flaming shield from above and the suitors fell as birds are scattered and torn by eagles.

Then Leiodes, the priest, made supplication to Ulysses, saying: "I never wrought evil in this house, and would have kept others from it, but they would not. Naught have I done save serve at the altar; wherefore, slay me not."

And Ulysses made reply, "That thou hast served at the altar of these men is enough, and also that thou wouldest wed my wife."

So he slew him; but Phemius, the minstrel, he spared, for he had sung among the suitors in the hall because he had been compelled, and not of his own will; and also Medon, the herald, bidding them go into the yard without. There they sat, holding by the altar and looking fearfully every way, for they still feared that they should die.

So the slaughtering of the suitors was ended; and now Ulysses bade cleanse the hall and wash the benches and the tables with water, and purify them with sulphur; and when this was done, that Eurycleia, the nurse, should go to Penelope and tell her that her husband was indeed returned.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE END OF THE WANDERING

Eurycleia went to the chamber of her mistress, bearing the glad tidings. She made haste in her great joy, and her feet stumbled one over the other. And she stood by the head of Penelope, and spake, saying: "Awake, dear child, and see with thine eyes that which thou hast desired so long. For, indeed, Ulysses hath come back, and hath slain the men that devoured his substance."

But Penelope made answer: "Surely, dear nurse, the G.o.ds have bereft thee of thy sense; and verily, they can make the wisdom of the wise to be foolishness, and they can give wisdom to the simple. Why dost thou mock me, rousing me out of my sleep, the sweetest that hath ever come to my eyes since the day when Ulysses sailed for Troy, most hateful of cities? Go, get thee to the chamber of the women! Had another of the maids roused me in this fashion, I had sent her back with a sharp rebuke, But thine old age protects thee."

Then said the nurse: "I mock thee not, dear child. In very truth Ulysses is here. He is the stranger to whom such dishonour was done. But Telemachus knew long since who he was, and hid the matter, that they might take vengeance on the suitors."

Then was Penelope glad, and she leapt from bed, and fell upon the neck of the old woman, weeping, and saying, "Tell me now the truth, whether, indeed, he hath come home, and hath slain the suitors, he being but one man, and they many."

The nurse made answer: "How it was done I know not; only I heard the groaning of men that were slain. Amazed did we women sit in our chamber till thy son called me. Then I found Ulysses standing among the dead, who lay one upon another. Verily, thou hadst been glad at heart to see him, so like to a lion was he, all stained with blood and the labour of the fight. And now the suitors lie in a heap, and he is purifying his house with brimstone. But come, that ye may have an end of all the sorrow that ye have endured, for thy desire is fulfilled. Thy husband hath come back, and hath avenged him to the full on these evil men."

But Penelope said: "Dear nurse, be not too bold in thy joy. Thou knowest how gladly I would see him. But this is not he; it is one of the G.o.ds that hath slain the suitors, being wroth at their insolence and wrong-doing. But Ulysses himself hath perished."

Then the nurse spake, saying: "What is that thou sayest? That thy husband will return no more, when he is even now in his own house?

Nay, thou art, indeed, slow to believe. Hear now this manifest token that I espied with mine eyes,--the scar of the wound that long since a wild boar dealt him with his tusk. I saw it when I washed his feet, and would fain have told thee, but he laid his hand upon my mouth, and in his wisdom suffered me not to speak."

To her Penelope made answer: "It is hard for thee to know the purposes of the G.o.ds. Nevertheless, I will go to my son, that I may see the suitors dead, and the man that slew them."

So she went and sat in the twilight by the other wall, and Ulysses sat by a pillar, with eyes cast down, waiting till his wife should speak to him. But she was sore perplexed; for now she seemed to know him, and now she knew him not, for he had not suffered that the women should put new robes upon him.

And Telemachus said: "Mother, evil mother, sittest thou apart from my father, and speakest not to him? Surely thy heart is harder than a stone."

But Ulysses said: "Let be, Telemachus. Thy mother will know that which is true in good time. But now let us hide this slaughter for awhile, lest the friends of these men seek vengeance against us.

Wherefore, let there be music and dancing in the hall, so that men shall say, 'This is the wedding of the Queen, and there is joy in the palace,' and know not of the truth."

So the minstrel played and the women danced. And meanwhile Ulysses went to the bath, and clothed himself in bright apparel, and came back to the hall, and Athene made him fair and young to see. Then he sat him down as before, over against his wife, and said:--

"Surely, O lady, the G.o.ds have made thee harder of heart than all other women. Would another wife have kept away from her husband, coming back now after twenty years?"

And when she doubted yet, he spake again: "Hear thou this, Penelope, and know that it is I indeed. I will tell thee of the fashion of my bed. There grew an olive in the inner court, with a stem of the bigness of a pillar. Round this did I build the chamber, and I roofed it over, and put doors upon it. Then I lopped off the boughs of the olive, and made it into the bedpost.

Afterwards, beginning from this, I wrought the bedstead till I had finished it, inlaying the work with gold and silver and ivory. And within I fastened a band of ox-hide that had been dyed with purple. Whether the bedstead be now fast in its place, or whether some one hath moved it--and verily, it was no light thing to move --I know not. But this was its fashion of old."

Then Penelope knew him, that he was her husband indeed, and ran to him, and threw her arms about him and kissed him, saying: "Pardon me, my lord, if I was slow to know thee; for ever I feared that some one should deceive me, saying that he was my husband. But now I know this, that thou art he and not another."

And they wept over each other and kissed each other. So did Ulysses come back to his home after twenty years.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE TRIUMPH OF ULYSSES

Meanwhile, Ulysses went forth from his palace to the dwelling of Laertes, that was in the fields. There the old man dwelt, and a woman of Sicily cared for him. And Ulysses spake to his son and to the shepherds, saying: "Go ye into the house and prepare a meal of swine's flesh, as savoury as may be; and I will make trial of my father, whether he will know me. For it may well be that he hath forgotten me, seeing that I have been now a long time absent."

So spake Ulysses, and gave also his arms to the men to keep for him. So they went into the house. And Ulysses went to the orchard, making search for his father. There he found not Dolius [Footnote: Do'-li-us.], that was steward to Laertes, nor any one of his servants, nor of his sons, for they were gone to make a fence about the field. Only the old man he found; and he was busy digging about a tree. Filthy was the tunic that he had about him and sewn with thread; and he had coverings of ox-hide on his legs to keep them from the thorns, and gloves upon his hands, and a cap of dog-skin on his head. And when Ulysses saw him, how that he was worn with old age and very sorrowful, he stood under a pear tree and wept. Then for awhile he took counsel with himself, whether he should kiss his father and embrace him, and make himself known, and tell him how he had come back to his home, or should first inquire of him, and learn all that he would know. And he judged it best first to inquire. So he came near to the old man; and the old man was digging about a tree, having his head bent down.

Then said Ulysses: "Verily, old man, thou lackest not skill to deal with an orchard. And truly, neither fig, nor vine, nor olive, nor pear may flourish in a garden without care. But yet another thing will I say to thee, and be not thou wroth when thou hearest it. Thy garden, indeed, is well cared for, but thou thyself art in evil plight. For old age lieth heavy upon thee, and thou art clad in filthy garments. Yet truly it is not because thou art idle that thy master thus dealeth with thee; nor, indeed, art thou in any wise like unto a slave; for thy face and thy stature are as it might be of a king. Such an one as thou art should wash himself, and sit down to meat, and sleep softly; for such is the right of old age. But come, tell me truly, whose servant art thou? Whose orchard dost thou tend? Tell me this also: is this, indeed, the land of Ithaca to which I am come? This, indeed, a certain man that I met as I came hither told me, but he seemed to be but of simple mind, nor would he listen to my words, nor tell me of a friend that I have who dwelleth in this place, whether he be alive or dead. I entertained him a long time since in my house, and never was there stranger whom I loved more than him. And he said that he was the son of Laertes, and that he came from the land of Ithaca."

To him Laertes made answer, weeping the while: "Doubt not, stranger, that thou art come to the land of which thou inquirest.

But unrighteous and violent men have it in possession. But as for the son of Laertes, hadst thou found him here, verily, he would have sent thee away with many gifts. But tell me truly, is it long time since thou didst give him entertainment? For, indeed, he is my son, unhappy man that I am. Surely either he hath been drowned in the sea, and the fishes have devoured him, or wild beasts and birds of the air have eaten him upon the land. And neither father nor mother, nor his wife, Penelope, most prudent of women, could make lamentation for him and lay him out for his burial. But tell me, who art thou? Where is thy city, and what thy parentage? Did thine own ship bring thee hither, and thy companions with thee, or didst thou come as a trader upon the ship of another?"

Then said Ulysses: "All this I will tell thee truly. My name is Eperitus.[Footnote: E-per'-i-tus.] It was of the doing of the G.o.ds that I came hither from the land of Sicily, and not of mine own will. And my ship is moored hard by. As for Ulysses, it is now the fifth year since he left me. Yet verily, the omens were good when he went forth on his journey, so that we both rejoiced, thinking that he would journey safely, and that we should be friends the one to the other in the time to come."

So spake Ulysses; and when the old man, his father, heard these words, great grief came upon him, and he took up the dust in his hands and poured it upon the white hairs of his head. And the heart of Ulysses was moved within him as he saw it, and he was ready to weep when he beheld his father. Then he threw his arms about him and kissed him, and said: "My father, here am I, thy son for whom thou weepest. Lo! I am come back to my native country after twenty years, and I have avenged myself on them that sought my wife in marriage, slaying them all."

To him the old man made answer, "If thou art my very son Ulysses, tell me some clear sign whereby I may know thee."

Then said Ulysses: "See, now, this scar upon my thigh where the wild boar wounded me on Mount Parna.s.sus.[Footnote: Par nas'-sus.]

For thou and my mother sent me to my grandfather, and I was wounded in the hunting. And let this also be a sign to thee. I will tell thee what trees of the orchard thou gavest me long since, when I was a boy and walked with thee, inquiring of thee their names. Thirteen pear trees didst thou give me, and ten apple trees, and of fig trees two score. Fifty rows also of vines didst thou promise to give me when the time of grapes should come."

And the old man's heart was moved within him, and his knees failed him, for he knew that the signs were true. And he threw his arms about his son, and the spirit of the old man revived, and he said: "Now I know that there are G.o.ds in heaven when I hear that these evil men have been punished for their wrong-doing. Nevertheless, I fear much lest their kinsmen shall stir up the men of Ithaca and of the islands round about against us."

Then said Ulysses: "Trouble not thyself with these matters, my father. Let us go rather to the house. There are Telemachus and Eumaeus, and the keeper of the herds, and they have made ready, that we may dine."

So they went to the house, and found Telemachus and his companions cutting flesh for the dinner and mixing the wine. Then the woman of Sicily washed the old man Laertes and anointed him with oil, and clad him in a fair cloak. And Athene also stood by him, and made him taller and st.u.r.dier to look on than before. And his son marvelled to behold him, so fair he was and like to the G.o.ds that live forever, so that he spake to him, saying, "O my father, surely one of the G.o.ds that live forever hath made thee fair to look upon and tall!"

And Laertes made answer: "Would to G.o.d that I had stood by you yesterday, taking vengeance on the suitors, with the strength I had of old. Many a man would I have slain with my spear, and thou wouldest have rejoiced in thy heart."

Thus spake they together. And when the dinner was ready they sat down to meat; and the old man Dolius, with his sons, approached, coming in from their labour; for the woman of Sicily, that was the mother of the lads, had called them. And when they saw Ulysses, they stood amazed and speechless. And Ulysses said, "Cease to wonder, old man, at this sight, and sit down to meat; truly we are ready for our meat, and have waited long time for you."

Then Dolius ran to him, stretching forth both his hands, and caught the hand of Ulysses and kissed it on the wrist. And he spake, saying: "Right glad are we at thy coming, for we looked not for thee. Surely it is of the G.o.ds that thou hast returned. May all things be well with thee. But tell me this. Knoweth Queen Penelope of thy coming, or shall I send a messenger to tell her?"

"Verily, she knoweth it," said Ulysses. Then the old man sat down to meat, and his sons also, when they had greeted Ulysses.

In the meanwhile there spread through the city the tidings how the suitors had been slain; and the kindred of the men came to the house of Ulysses with many groans and tears, and carried away the dead bodies and buried them. But such as came from other lands they put on shipboard, that they might carry them to the sepulchres of their fathers. And when these things were ended they gathered themselves together in the marketplace; and Eupeithes [Footnote: Eu-pei'-thes.] stood up amongst them, being sore troubled in his heart for his son Antinous, whom Ulysses had slain first of all the suitors. He stood up, therefore, in the midst, and spake: "Surely this man hath wrought great evils in this land.

First he took comrades with him to Troy, many in number and brave.

These all he lost, and their ships also. And now he hath come hither and slain the princes of the people. Shame it were to us, yea, among the generations to come, if we avenge not ourselves on them that have slain our sons and our brothers. Verily, I desire not life, if such should go unpunished. Come, therefore, let us make haste, lest they cross over the sea and so escape."