Book XVIII

[1] Then came a public beggar, who begged his way through Ithaca's town, [2] a man renowned for his ravenous gut, his endless greed [3] for food and drink. He had no strength, no fighting force, [4] but was a massive man to behold, a giant in his frame. [5] Arnaeus was the name his honored mother gave him [6] at his birth, but all the young men called him Irus, [7] because he ran their messages whenever one commanded. [8] Arriving now, he tried to drive Odysseus from his own house, [9] and assailed him with insults, speaking winged words: [10] “Give way from the portal, old man, or be dragged out soon by the foot. [11] Do you not see them all giving me the signal with their eyes, [12] bidding me to haul you off? And yet I feel the shame of it. [13] But up now, before this quarrel between us comes to blows.”

[14] Then with a dark glance, the master of many wiles, Odysseus, replied: [15] “Strange one, I do you no harm in word or deed, [16] nor do I begrudge what any man gives you, however great the portion. [17] This threshold will hold us both; you have no need [18] to envy the goods of other men. You seem a wanderer to me, [19] just as I am, and it is the gods who are likely to grant us fortune. [20] But do not provoke me too far with your fists, lest you enrage me, [21] lest I, old though I am, should smear your chest and lips [22] with blood. Then I would have a much more peaceful day [23] tomorrow, for I do not think you would ever turn back [24] a second time to the hall of Laertes’ son, Odysseus.”

[25] The vagrant Irus, his anger rising, answered him in turn: [26] “Gods! How this glutton’s tongue runs on and on, [27] like some old hag beside her kiln! I could devise such evils for him, [28] striking with both my fists, and dash out all his teeth [29] from his jaws to the ground, like a sow that ravages the corn. [30] Gird yourself now, so all these men may know our strength [31] as we contend. How could you ever fight a younger man?”

[32] So they, before the high doors on the polished threshold, [33] with all their spirit goaded one another on. [34] The sacred might of Antinous took notice of the two, [35] and laughing sweetly, he addressed the suitors: [36] “My friends, never before has such a thing occurred, [37] such fine amusement has a god brought to this house! [38] The stranger here and Irus are provoking one another [39] to fight with fists. Come, let us urge them on!”

[40] So he spoke, and they all leaped up, laughing, [41] and gathered around the two beggars in their wretched rags. [42] Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them: [43] “Listen to me, you high-hearted suitors, while I say something. [44] Here are some goats’ paunches lying in the fire, which we set aside [45] for our supper, stuffed with rich fat and with blood. [46] Whichever of these two wins and proves the better man, [47] let him stand up and choose for himself whichever one he wants. [48] And he will dine with us always; we will allow no other [49] beggar to come inside and ask for alms among us.”

[50] So Antinous spoke, and his proposal pleased them all. [51] Then with cunning in his heart, resourceful Odysseus addressed them: [52] “Friends, there is no way for an old man, worn down by misery, [53] to fight against a younger man. But my accursed belly [54] drives me on, to be beaten down by his blows. [55] But come now, all of you, swear a binding oath to me: [56] that no one, showing favor to Irus, will strike me [57] a foul blow with a heavy hand, and by force subdue me to this man.”

[58] So he spoke, and they all swore the oath as he commanded. [59] And when they had sworn and completed the solemn oath, [60] the sacred might of Telemachus spoke out among them again: [61] “Stranger, if your heart and your proud spirit urge you [62] to fend this man off, then have no fear of any other Achaean. [63] Whoever strikes you will have to fight with many more. [64] I am your host, and the two kings here approve, [65] Antinous and Eurymachus, both men of sound judgment.”

[66] So he spoke, and they all voiced their assent. But Odysseus [67] girt his rags around his loins, and so revealed his thighs, [68] so fine and large, and his broad shoulders came to view, [69] his chest and his powerful arms. And Athena, standing near, [70] filled out the limbs of the shepherd of the people. [71] The suitors were all seized with overwhelming wonder, [72] and one would glance at his neighbor and would say: [73] “Soon Irus will be Un-Irus, he’s brought this trouble on himself! [74] Look at the thigh-muscle the old man shows from under his rags!”

[75] So they spoke, and a grim fear seized Irus’s spirit. [76] But even so, the servants girded him and led him out by force, [77] terrified, the flesh on his limbs trembling all over. [78] Antinous spoke to him then with words of sharp rebuke: [79] “You should never have been born, you hulking ox, if you now [80] tremble and are so terribly afraid of this man, [81] an old man, worn down by the misery that has found him. [82] But I will tell you this, and it will be fulfilled: [83] if this man defeats you and proves himself the stronger, [84] I will toss you in a black ship and send you to the mainland, [85] to King Echetus, the maimer of all mortals, [86] who will slice off your nose and ears with the pitiless bronze, [87] and rip away your manhood to feed raw to his dogs.”

[88] So he spoke, and a deeper trembling seized Irus’s limbs. [89] They led him to the center, and both men raised their fists. [90] Then much-enduring, godlike Odysseus considered deeply [91] whether to strike him so his soul would leave him where he fell, [92] or strike him lightly and stretch him out upon the earth. [93] And as he thought, this seemed to him the better way: [94] to strike him lightly, so the Achaeans would not take full note of him. [95] Then, as they squared off, Irus struck Odysseus’s right shoulder, [96] but Odysseus hit him on the neck, just beneath the ear, and the bones inside [97] were shattered. At once the crimson blood gushed from his mouth, [98] and he fell down in the dust with a moan, gnashing his teeth, [99] kicking his feet on the ground. The lordly suitors [100] raised their hands and died of laughter. But Odysseus [101] seized him by the foot and dragged him through the doorway, out to the court [102] and the portico gates. He propped him up against the courtyard wall, [103] leaning there, and thrust the staff into his hand, [104] and speaking to him, uttered these winged words: [105] “Sit there now and scare away the pigs and dogs, [106] and do not try to be the lord of strangers and of beggars, [107] you miserable wretch, or you may win some greater evil.”

[108] He spoke, and slung the wretched pouch about his shoulders, [109] all ripped and torn, held by a twisted cord as a strap. [110] Then he went back to the threshold and sat down. The suitors went inside, [111] laughing sweetly, and greeted him with words of praise: [112] “May Zeus and the other immortal gods grant you, stranger, [113] what you most desire and what is dear to your own heart, [114] for you have stopped this insatiable man from roaming through the land. [115] Soon we will pack him off to the mainland, [116] to King Echetus, the maimer of all mortals.”

[117] So they spoke, and godlike Odysseus rejoiced in the omen of their words. [118] Antinous set the great paunch down beside him, [119] filled with fat and blood. And Amphinomus [120] took two loaves from a basket and set them before him, [121] and pledged him with a golden cup, and spoke and said: [122] “Farewell, my father and stranger. May you have good fortune [123] in the time to come, for now you are held fast in many sorrows.”

[124] And answering him, the master of many wiles, Odysseus, replied: [125] “Amphinomus, you seem to me a man of great perception; [126] for you are the son of such a father, whose fine fame I have heard— [127] Nisus of Dulichium, a man both good and wealthy. [128] They say you are his son, and you seem a man of gentle speech. [129] Therefore I will tell you this; you mark it well and listen. [130] Of all the things that breathe and move upon the earth, [131] the earth breeds nothing more fragile than a man. [132] For he thinks that he will never suffer evil in the future, [133] so long as the gods grant him excellence and his knees are strong. [134] But when the blessed gods decree that sorrows come, [135] he bears them too, unwillingly, with a steadfast heart. [136] For the mind of mortal men upon the earth is of a kind [137] with the day the father of men and gods brings down on him. [138] For I myself was once destined to be prosperous among men, [139] but I committed many reckless acts, yielding to force and my own strength, [140] trusting in my father and in my brothers. [141] Therefore let no man ever be lawless in any way, [142] but let him keep in silence the gifts of the gods, whatever they may give. [143] But I see the suitors devising reckless deeds, [144] carving away the wealth and dishonoring the wife [145] of a man who, I say, will not be long away [146] from his friends and his fatherland. He is very near. But may a god [147] lead you away to your own home, and may you not face him [148] when he returns to his dear native land. [149] For not without bloodshed, I think, will the issue be decided [150] between the suitors and that man, once he comes beneath his roof.”

[151] He spoke, and pouring a libation, drank the honeyed wine, [152] then placed the cup back in the hands of the people's marshal. [153] But Amphinomus went through the hall with sorrow in his heart, [154] shaking his head, for his spirit foresaw the evil. [155] But not even so did he escape his doom; for Athena bound him too [156] to be brought down by the hands and spear of Telemachus. [157] He sat down again on the high-backed chair from which he had risen.

[158] Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, put a thought into the mind [159] of Icarius’s daughter, the wise Penelope: [160] to show herself before the suitors, so that she might open wide [161] the hearts of the suitors, and that she might become more honored [162] in the eyes of her husband and her son than she had been before. [163] She gave a faint laugh, and spoke a word and called out by name: [164] “Eurynome, my spirit longs, as never before, [165] to show myself to the suitors, hateful though they are. [166] And I would say a word to my son, one that might be for his good: [167] not to consort so much with the overbearing suitors, [168] who speak with fine words, but have evil plans for later.”

[169] And the housekeeper Eurynome in turn replied to her: [170] “Yes, my child, all that you have said is spoken rightly. [171] Go now and speak this word to your son and do not hide it, [172] but first wash your skin and anoint your cheeks with oil. [173] Do not go down with your face all stained with tears, [174] for it is a worse thing to grieve on and on without end. [175] For your son is now of such an age, the very one you most [176] prayed to the immortals to see, with a beard upon his chin.”

[177] Then wise Penelope answered her in turn: [178] “Eurynome, do not urge me, in your care for me, [179] to wash my skin and anoint myself with oil. [180] For the gods who hold Olympus destroyed my radiance [181] from that day when he departed in the hollow ships. [182] But bid Autonoe and Hippodameia to come to me, [183] so they may stand beside me in the great hall. [184] I will not go alone among the men, for I feel a sense of shame.”

[185] So she spoke, and the old woman went through the great hall [186] to tell the maids and urge them to attend her. [187] Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, turned to other plans. [188] Upon the daughter of Icarius she poured a sweet sleep, [189] and she slept, reclining there, and all her joints relaxed [190] right there upon her couch. Meanwhile the queen of goddesses [191] bestowed immortal gifts, so the Achaeans would be amazed. [192] With beauty first she cleansed her lovely face, [193] with an ambrosial balm, the kind that Cytherea of the fine crown [194] anoints herself with, when she goes to the lovely dance of the Graces. [195] And she made her taller and fuller in form to look upon, [196] and made her skin whiter than new-sawn ivory. [197] Having done all this, the queen of goddesses departed, [198] and her white-armed handmaidens came from the great hall, [199] their voices echoing. And the sweet sleep released her. [200] She wiped her cheeks with her hands and spoke and said: [201] “Surely a deep and dreadful misery held me in this soft slumber. [202] If only chaste Artemis would grant me so soft a death, [203] right at this moment, so I would no longer waste my life away, [204] grieving in my heart, longing for my beloved husband’s [205] manifold excellence, for he was supreme among Achaeans.”

[206] So speaking, she came down from her gleaming upper chambers, [207] not alone; two handmaidens followed along with her. [208] And when she, the queen of women, reached the suitors, [209] she stood beside a pillar of the strong-built roof, [210] holding her shining veil before her cheeks. [211] A loyal handmaiden stood on either side of her. [212] At that sight their knees gave way, their hearts were bewitched by desire, [213] and they all prayed to lie beside her in her bed. [214] But she addressed Telemachus, her own beloved son: [215] “Telemachus, your mind and judgment are no longer sound. [216] When you were still a child, you had a shrewder mind; [217] but now that you are grown and have reached the measure of manhood— [218] and any stranger seeing your height and beauty would say [219] you are the son of a prosperous man— [220] your mind and judgment are no longer what they should be. [221] What sort of deed is this that has been done in our halls, [222] that you allowed this stranger to be so abused? [223] What now, if a guest, sitting in our own house, [224] should suffer such a thing from this harsh mistreatment? [225] On you would fall the shame and disgrace among all people.”

[226] Then wise Telemachus spoke to her in answer: [227] “My mother, I do not blame you for being angry. [228] Yet in my heart I know and understand each thing, [229] both good and bad; before, I was still a child. [230] But I cannot think of all things with perfect wisdom, [231] for these men here distract me, sitting on either side, [232] thinking evil thoughts, and I have no one here to help me. [233] But the brawl between the stranger and Irus did not happen [234] by the suitors’ will; in strength, he proved the better man. [235] Father Zeus, Athena, and Apollo, if only it were so— [236] that now the suitors in our own halls were beaten down, [237] their heads lolling, some in the courtyard, some inside the house, [238] and the limbs of every man unstrung, just as that Irus now, [239] by the courtyard gates, sits lolling his head like a drunkard, [240] unable to stand upright on his feet or make his way [241] home, wherever his home may be, his dear limbs are so unstrung.”

[242] So they spoke such things as these to one another. [243] Then Eurymachus addressed Penelope with his words: [244] “Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, [245] if all Achaeans in Iasian Argos could see you now, [246] even more suitors would be feasting in your halls [247] from tomorrow’s dawn, since you surpass all other women [248] in your form and stature, and in the balanced mind within you.”

[249] And in her turn, the wise Penelope replied: [250] “Eurymachus, surely my excellence, my form and my appearance, [251] the immortals destroyed, that time the Argives [252] went up to Ilion, and with them went my husband, Odysseus. [253] If only he would return and watch over my life, [254] my fame would be far greater and more beautiful. [255] But now I grieve; a god has sent so many evils upon me. [256] For I remember when he went, leaving his fatherland behind, [257] he took my right hand by the wrist and spoke to me: [258] ‘My wife, I do not think the well-greaved Achaeans [259] will all return from Troy unharmed and well. [260] For they say the Trojans are fighters, men who are [261] skilled with the javelin and as bowmen, and as riders [262] of swift-footed horses, who can most quickly [263] decide the great strife of a hard-fought war. [264] So I do not know if a god will bring me back, or if I will be taken [265] there in Troy; so here you must take care of everything. [266] Remember my father and mother in these halls [267] as you do now, or even more, while I am gone. [268] But when you see our son with a beard upon his chin, [269] then marry whomever you wish, and leave your house behind.’ [270] So he spoke then, and now all these things are coming to pass. [271] The night will be, when a hateful marriage will befall me, [272] this cursed woman, from whom Zeus has stolen all my happiness. [273] But this terrible grief has come upon my heart and soul: [2t4] this was not the suitors’ custom in the days before. [275] Those who wish to woo a good woman, a rich man’s daughter, [276] and rival one another for her hand, [277] they themselves bring cattle and fat sheep, [278] a feast for the bride’s friends, and they give her glorious gifts. [279] They do not devour another’s livelihood without repayment.”

[280] So she spoke, and much-enduring, godlike Odysseus was glad [281] that she was drawing gifts from them, and charmed their souls [282] with honeyed words, while her own mind intended other things. [283] Then Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke to her in turn: [284] “Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, [285] the gifts that any of the Achaeans wish to bring here, [286] accept them. For it is not good to refuse a gift. [287] But we will not go to our estates, nor anywhere else, [288] until you have married whoever is the best of the Achaeans.”

[289] So Antinous spoke, and his proposal pleased them all, [290] and each one sent a herald to bring his gifts. [291] For Antinous, a herald brought a great and beautiful robe, [292] richly embroidered; in it were twelve brooches, [293] all of gold, fitted with finely curving clasps. [294] For Eurymachus, a herald brought a richly wrought necklace [295] of gold, strung with amber beads that shone like the sun. [296] For Eurydamas, his two attendants brought a pair of earrings, [297] with triple drops, mulberry-clustered; a great grace shone from them. [298] And from the house of Peisander, son of Polyctor the lord, [299] a servant brought a necklace, a jewel of surpassing beauty. [300] And each of the other Achaeans brought another lovely gift. [301] Then she went up to her upper chambers, the queen of women, [302] and her handmaidens carried the beautiful gifts for her. [303] The suitors then turned to dancing and to lovely song, [304] and took their pleasure, and waited for evening to come on. [305] And as they took their pleasure, the dark evening came. [306] At once they set up three braziers in the great hall [307] to give them light, and piled them with dry kindling, [308] long-seasoned wood, split newly with the bronze axe, [309] and mixed in pine-torches. By turns the serving maids [310] of long-suffering Odysseus tended the flames. But to them [311] the Zeus-born, resourceful Odysseus himself then spoke: [312] “You serving maids of Odysseus, a master long since gone, [313] go now to the chambers where your honored queen resides. [314] Sit there beside her and spin the yarn, and bring her cheer, [315] or comb the wool with your hands. [316] I myself will provide the light for all these men. [317] For even if they wish to wait for Dawn on her fine throne, [318] they will not outlast me. I am a man of great endurance.”

[319] So he spoke, but they laughed and glanced at one another. [320] And one, Melantho of the lovely cheeks, rebuked him shamefully. [321] Dolios was her father, but Penelope had raised her [322] and cherished her like her own child, giving her toys for her delight. [323] But not even so did she hold Penelope’s sorrow in her heart; [324] instead, she would lie with Eurymachus and was his lover. [325] She now rebuked Odysseus with words of sharp reproach: [326] “You wretched stranger, you must be addled in your wits, [327] unwilling to go to a smithy or a public lodge to sleep, [328] but you stay here and talk so much, boldly among so many men, [329] with no fear in your heart. Surely the wine has got your wits, [330] or perhaps your mind is always of this sort, that you babble idly. [331] Are you delirious because you beat that vagrant Irus? [332] Take care lest someone better than Irus should soon rise up, [333] who will batter you about the head with his heavy hands [334] and send you from the house, all smeared with your own blood.”

[335] Then with a dark glance, the master of many wiles, Odysseus, replied: [336] “Soon I will go to Telemachus, you dog, and tell him what you say, [337] so that right here he may cut you limb from limb.”

[338] With these words he sent the women scattering in terror. [339] They fled through the hall, and the knees of each one gave way [340] with fear, for they thought he spoke the truth. [341] But he stood by the blazing braziers, tending the light, [342] watching all the men. But in his heart his mind was churning [343] other things, things that would not fail to be fulfilled. [344] But Athena did not let the high-hearted suitors [345] hold back entirely from their heart-stinging insults, so that still more [346] pain might sink into the heart of Laertes’ son, Odysseus. [347] Eurymachus, son of Polybus, began to speak among them, [348] mocking Odysseus, and he raised a laugh among his friends: [349] “Listen to me, you suitors of our renowned queen, [350] so I may speak what the spirit in my chest commands. [351] Not without a god’s will has this man come to Odysseus’s house. [352] It seems to me the gleam of torches comes from the man himself, [353] from his own head, since there is no hair on it, not even a little.”

[354] He spoke, and at the same time addressed Odysseus, sacker of cities: [355] “Stranger, would you be willing to work for me, if I should hire you, [356] out on a farm at the world’s end—your wages will be fair— [357] building stone walls and planting the tall trees? [358] There I would provide you steady food for the year, [359] and clothe you in garments and give you sandals for your feet. [360] But since you have learned only evil trades, you will not be willing [361] to turn to honest work; you would rather cringe and beg through the land [362] to have the means to feed your insatiable belly.”

[363] And answering him, the master of many wiles, Odysseus, replied: [364] “Eurymachus, if only there could be a contest of labor between us [365] in the season of spring, when the days are growing long, [366] out in a hayfield, and I had a well-curved scythe, [367] and you had one as well, so we could test our work, [368] fasting until the late dusk, with plenty of grass at hand. [369] Or if there were oxen to be driven, the very best, [370] tawny and large, both having had their fill of grass, [371] of the same age and pulling-power, their strength not to be scorned, [372] and a field of four acres, the soil yielding to the plow— [373] then you would see if I could cut a furrow straight and true. [374] Or if the son of Cronos should stir up a war from somewhere [375] this very day, and I had a shield and two spears [376] and a helmet all of bronze, fitting well upon my temples, [377] then you would see me mingling in the foremost ranks of fighters, [378] and you would not speak then, taunting me about my belly. [379] But you are full of insolence, and your mind is cruel. [380] And you think yourself a great man and a mighty one [381] because you keep company with the few, and those of no account. [382] But if Odysseus should come and return to his native land, [383] soon these doors, wide as they are, would seem too narrow [384] for you in your flight out through the portico.”

[385] So he spoke, and Eurymachus grew angrier still in his heart, [386] and with a dark glance he spoke to him with winged words: [387] “Ah, you wretch, soon I will make you pay for speaking so, [388] so boldly among many men, with no fear in your heart. [389] Surely the wine has got your wits, or perhaps your mind is always [390] of this sort, that you babble idly. [391] Are you delirious because you beat that vagrant Irus?”

[392] So speaking, he seized a footstool. But Odysseus [393] sat down at the knees of Amphinomus of Dulichium, [394] in fear of Eurymachus. But the stool struck the wine-pourer’s [395] right hand. The jug dropped to the ground with a clang, [396] and the boy fell backward in the dust with a cry. [397] The suitors broke into an uproar through the shadowy halls, [398] and one would glance at his neighbor and would say: [399] “If only this wandering stranger had perished somewhere else [400] before he came here; then he would not have caused such a clamor. [401] Now we are brawling over beggars, and there will be no joy [402] in this fine feast, since baser things prevail.”

[403] Then the sacred might of Telemachus spoke out among them: [404] “You are mad, you strange men, and no longer hide in your hearts [405] the effects of your food and wine. Some god is stirring you up. [406] But now that you have feasted well, go home and take your rest, [407] whenever your spirit bids you. I for my part drive no man away.”

[408] So he spoke, and they all bit their lips [409] and marveled at Telemachus, that he spoke with such daring. [410] Then Amphinomus rose and spoke in their assembly, [411] the glorious son of Nisus, the son of lord Aretius: [412] “Friends, when a word is spoken justly, no man [413] should answer back with angry words and take offense. [414] Do not abuse the stranger, nor any of the other [415] servants in the house of godlike Odysseus. [416] But come, let the wine-pourer begin the offerings with the cups, [417] so we may pour libations and then go home to rest. [418] And let us leave the stranger here in Odysseus’s halls [419] for Telemachus to care for; for it is his dear house he has come to.”

[420] So he spoke, and his word was pleasing to them all. [421] The hero Mulius mixed the wine for them in a great bowl, [422] a herald from Dulichium, and servant to Amphinomus. [423] He served them all in turn, and they, to the blessed gods [424] poured libations and drank the honeyed wine. [425] And when they had poured and drunk as much as their hearts desired, [426] they went their way to their own houses, each man to his rest.