Reading 2

Book 2

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WHEN the early-born rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, the dear son of Odysseus stirred from his bed and put on his clothes. He hung his sharp sword from his shoulder, tied his fair sandals around his strong feet, and stepped from his bedroom looking like a god. Right away he sent the heralds around to call the long-haired Achaeans together in assembly. And they gathered quickly. Now when they were already together, [10] Telemachus went to the place of assembly holding a bronze-tipped spear in his hand and accompanied by two swift-footed dogs—so he wasn’t alone. Not only that but Athena charmed him so that the people were impressed by the way he looked. Indeed, the old men drew back in his presence as he sat down in his father’s chair.

15-24 Old and wise Aegyptius rises to speak first. Homer tells us that his son Antiphus went to Troy and was eaten by the Cyclops on the return home. Another son, Eurynomus, is among the suitors. Two others farm. Aegyptius wonders why the assembly has been called.

25-34 “Listen to me now, men of Ithaca, listen to what I will say. We Ithacans haven’t held an assembly since godlike Odysseus embarked in his hollow ships. Who, then, has called us together? Is it one of the younger men who feels the need? Or perhaps it is one of the older men, one who was born long ago? [30] Has he heard some rumor about the army’s return—some word he can report with certainty since he learned of it first? Or is it some public matter he needs to declare and discuss? A noble and brave man he seems to me, a blessed man. May Zeus accomplish some good for him, whatever is his heart’s desire.”

35-44 Telemachus rejoices at Aegyptius’ speech. Then he rises to speak in order to explain his need.

45-67 “The need is mine, for two evils have fallen upon my house. The first is the loss of my noble father. Among all of you, he was the chief ruler and was as gentle and kind as a father is to his children. And now there is a much bigger problem, one that threatens to totally destroy my whole household and deplete everything I have and rely on to live. . . . [50-54] . . . The suitors come to our house every single day. And while here they sacrifice our oxen, sheep, and fat goats in order to hold feasts for many people. And they drink our sparkling wine recklessly without good reason. Consequently, much of what we have is being used up. Wasted! And no man such as Odysseus will stand up to defend our house from ruin. [60] We men of the household don’t have what it takes to defend our house. No, our plight is sad—we’ve never learned the ways of battle. I myself would defend the household if I were strong enough. . . . You yourselves should feel indignant—you should feel ashamed before the neighboring men who live around us.”

68-84 Telemachus warns them to fear the gods and begs to be left alone to mourn his missing father. After speaking, he dashes the scepter on the hard ground. The people pity him. Antinous alone stands to make an angry response.

85-96 “Telemachus, your speech has gone too far! Your feelings of rage are out of line, uncontrolled! What are these words you have marshalled to shame us? You wish to blame us, the Achaean suitors of your mother Penelope? Well, we suitors are not to blame! Rather, your dear mother who is full of tricks is behind everything we do.

“For the past three years, and nearly four, [90] she has been driving us out of our minds with false hope. She encourages each one of us with messages and promises without meaning a word of what she says. And then there was the clever trick she played on us! She set up a great loom in her room and began to weave an enormous cloth. ‘My young suitors,’ she said, ‘godlike Odysseus is indeed dead. Still, do not press me to marry again immediately. Wait until I have finished this burial shroud for the hero Laertes, so that he will have one when [100] the destructive fate of death takes him down. If I don’t make him one, the Achaean women will shame me. They’ll express astonishment that a man of so many possessions and much wealth went down to death without a burial shroud.’ That’s what she said, and our manly spirits were persuaded. And from that day forward she would weave on her great loom during the day and by torchlight unravel what she had done at night. She fooled us in this way for three years. Yet as the seasons passed and the fourth year came on, one of the women who clearly knew what she was doing told us, and we caught her in the act of undoing her work. [110] And so we compelled her to finish. She had to.

“The suitors, therefore, make this answer to your speech and accusations so that you and all the other Achaeans may know our position well. Send your mother away from your house. Command her to marry the suitor her father bids her to marry and the one that is pleasing to her.”

115-160 Antinous goes on to explain that they have never heard of any woman like Penelope—neither Tyro, Alcmene, nor Mycene. Still, it wasn’t a good move to deceive the suitors in this manner. They will not leave until she marries one of them—"one of the Achaeans.”

In reply, Telemachus complains that he can’t force Penelope to leave or marry. And if they must seek his mother’s hand, they should do it in their own homes. As for Telemachus, he prays that Zeus will grant him revenge, that the suitors will be destroyed unavenged in his house.

In response to his prayer, Zeus sends two eagles as omens. Foretelling the suitors’ destruction, they fly above the assembly and tear at each other. Seeing this heavenly sign, Halitherses, the best of the birdwatchers and readers of omens, addresses the assembly.

161-185 “Listen to me, men of Ithaca, so that I may speak to you. And you suitors, what I declare is especially for you since I’m aware of great pain and suffering coming your way. Odysseus is not going to be away from his dear ones for much longer. No, even now he is nearby and ready to slaughter and kill all the suitors. And this will be an evil for the rest of us who live in far-seen Ithaca.

“Let us consider this matter, then, and put a stop to this wickedness before he comes. Let the suitors do so freely. It will be better for them, [170] for I am not prophesying without knowledge or without experience. Everything I foretold about the Argives when they launched for Troy, and about Odysseus of many counsels, has happened. I said that after suffering much evil and losing all his comrades, he would come home again in the twentieth year, and that no one would know him. Now all this is happening.”

In turn Eurymachus, the child of Polybus, answered him, “Go home now old man to prophesy to your own children so that they won’t suffer evil. [180] Anyway, I’m much better than you at prophesying. Birds are always flying around in the sunshine somewhere or other, and so they can’t all be fateful. No, Odysseus has perished in a faraway land. It’s too bad you’re not also dead—then you wouldn’t be going on about your prophesies and backing Telemachus’ anger.”

186-207 Eurymachus goes on to tell Halitherses to leave them alone or they will fine him. Furthermore, he advises Telemachus to marry off his mother. Until then, they will compete for her in his house.

208-223 Then mindful Telemachus said to him, “Eurymachus and you other noble suitors, [210] I will say no more, nor will I entreat you further—for the gods and all the Achaeans now know what is going on. Here’s what I need, though. Give me a ship and a crew of twenty men to take me abroad, and I will go to Sparta and to sandy Pylos to see if I can find out anything about my father, who has so long been missing. Some mortal man may tell me something, or I may hear some report from Zeus, who often produces glory for human beings. If I hear that he is alive and returning home, then, even though I am worn out, I will endure for another year. [220] If, on the other hand, I hear of his death, I will return at once, appropriately celebrate his funeral rites, pile up a mound to his memory, and make my mother marry again.”

224-239 Telemachus sits down, and Mentor, Odysseus’ comrade and the man to whom he had given charge of his house, stands to rebuke the suitors. He asks if they behave this way to repay Odysseus’ kindness—for Odysseus was always a good ruler. Well, he declares, they do so at their own peril considering Odysseus will return. He turns to the other people and asks them why they let the suitors behave as they do.

239-241 “I am indignant with the rest of you! You all sit there in silence without saying a word to stop the suitors, even though you are many and they are few.”

242-245 The suitor Leiocritus responds by declaring that even if Odysseus returns, he won’t be able to stand up to the suitors and drive them from his own house.

246-251 “Even if Odysseus himself came upon the noble suitors feasting in his own house, and even if he eagerly desired to drive them out of his great hall, his own wife would take no joy in his coming no matter how much she missed and needed him. [250] Rather, he’d meet up with a shameful death if he fought against us who so clearly outnumber him.”

252-311 With this, Leiocritus breaks up the assembly, suggesting Halitherses and Mentor should help Telemachus prepare for his journey even though he doubts it will ever happen.

After praying to Athena, Telemachus encounters her disguised as Mentor by the seashore. She praises his likely might—like his father in accomplishing his desires in both word and deed. Still, she says, only a small number of sons are the same as their fathers. Most are worse, and only a few are better. Telemachus likely has the good qualities of his father. Therefore, he’ll be able to successfully make the voyage. She tells him to forget about the suitors who are unaware of the “death and black fate” that approach them. They will all be destroyed in a single day, she says. Mentor promises Telemachus a ship and a crew of twenty men and advises him to prepare for the voyage ahead.

Telemachus returns to his house where Antinous invites him to relax and feast. The son of Odysseus reveals that he cannot possibly enjoy a feast in their company. No, he will go as he promised and figure out a way to make the suitors pay for taking his many possessions.

312-317 “Was it not enough that you suitors wasted so much of my good property and wealth while I was still a boy? But now that I’m older and wiser,—I’ve learned more by listening to what others say—, and now that my spirit grows stronger within me, I’ll try to bring harm and death to you either from Pylos or from the people here in this land.”

318-324 Hearing this, some of the suitors mock him.

325-330 “It’s certain—Telemachus is planning to kill us! He’ll fetch some allies from sandy Pylos, or possibly from Sparta, since now he’s really, horribly set on doing it! Or maybe he wishes to go to Ephyre, that fertile land, in order to bring back life-destroying poisons. [330] He’ll toss these in the wine bowl and kill us all!”

331-419 Another suitor mockingly suggests that Telemachus will wander like his father and die. He proposes that they could divide his things and one could marry his mother and keep the house.

While they go on, Telemachus prepares the stores of wine and grain for the ship with the help of Eurycleia, the nurse who helped to rear him. He tells her about his journey to the mainland. Hearing this, she shrieks but promises to keep the secret of his launch and journey from his mother. She is afraid the suitors will trick him, kill him, and divide all his possessions. Telemachus assures her that the plan has divine sanction. He further asks her not to tell Penelope until the twelfth day after he has gone. She swears an oath.

Meanwhile, “appearing like Telemachus,” Athena gathers a crew of men and secures Noemon’s ship. Later she causes the suitors to sleep so that Telemachus may join the others in the ship. They pack the boat with the earlier prepared stores, and, finally, they sail.

420-434 Bright-eyed Athena sent them a fair wind, strong-blowing Zephyrus, the West Wind. And he roared across the wine-faced sea. Telemachus ordered the men to take hold of the ropes and raise the sail. They did as he told them—they set the mast in its socket in the cross plank, raised it, and made it secure with lines running from the mast all around. Then they raised the white sails aloft with ropes of twisted oxhide. As the sail bellied out with the wind, the ship flew through the deep blue water, and the foam hissed against her bows as she sped onward.

Then, when everything was set in the swift black ship, they filled the wine bowls to the brim and poured out libations to the immortal and everlasting gods—and most of all to the bright-eyed child of Zeus.

So it was that all night long until the dawn the ship tore through the waves along its journey to sandy Pylos.

So ends Book 2. See you in Book 3, “Telemachus with Nestor in Pylos.”