Book twenty four, The Ghosts of the Suitors in Hades, Ulysses and his
men go to the house of Laird Case. The people of Ithaca come out
to attack Ulysses, but Minervac concludes a peace. Then Mercury of Silene summoned
the ghosts of the Suitors, and in his hand he held the fair golden
wand, with which he seals men's eyes in sleep, or wakes them just
as he pleases. With this, he roused the ghosts and led them while
they followed, whining and gibbering behind him, as bats fly squealing in the
hollow of some great cave when one of them has fallen out of the cluster
in which they hang. Even so did the ghosts whine and squeal as Mercury,
the Healer of sorrow, led them down to the dark abode of death.
When they had passed the waters of Oceanus and the roch Leelchus, they
came to the gates of the Sun and the land of Dreams, whereon they
reached the meadow of Asphodel, where dwelled the souls and shadows of them that
can labor no more. Here they found the ghost of Achilles, son of
Peleus, with those of Patroclus and Telochus, and Ajax, who was the
finest and handsomest man of all the Danians, after the son of Pelias himself.
They gathered round the ghost of the son of Pelias, and the ghost
of Agamemnon joined them, sorrowing bitterly. Round him were also gathered the ghosts
of those who had perished with him in the house of Ajeastus. And the
ghost of Achilles spoke, first, son of Atreus, It said, we
used to say that Joe had loved you better from the first to last than
any other hero, for you were captain over many and brave men when we
were all fighting together before Troy. Yet the hand of death, which no
mortal can escape, was laid upon you all too early. Better for you
had you fallen at Troy in the heyday of your renown, for the Achaeans
would have built a mound over your ashes, and your son would have been
heir to your good name, whereas it has now been your lot to come
to a most miserable end. Happy son of Pelias, answered the ghost of
Agamemnon, for having died at Troy, far from argos, while the bravest
of the Trojans and the Achaeans fell round you, fighting for your body.
There you lay in the whirling clouds of dust, all huge and hugely heedless.
Now of your chivalry, we fought the whole of the livelong day,
Nor should we ever have left off if Jove had not sent a hurricane to
stay us. Then, when we had borne you to the ships out of
the fray, we laid you on your bed and cleansed your fair skin with
warm water and with ointments. The Danaians tore their hair and wept bitterly round
about you. Your mother, when she heard, came with her immortal nymphs
from out of the sea, and the sound of a great whaling went forth
over the waters, so that the Achaeans quaked for fear. They would have
fled, panic stricken to their ships, had not wise old Nestor, whose
counsel was ever truest, checked them, saying, hold, our gives fly
not sons of the Achaeans. This is his mother coming from the sea with
her immortal niphs to view the body of her son. Thus he spoke,
and the Achaeans feared no more. The daughters of the old Man of the
sea stood round you, weeping bitterly, and clothed you in immortal raiment.
The nine muses also came and lifted up their sweet voices in lament, calling
and answering one another. There was not an argive, but wept for pity
of the dirge. They chanted days and nights seven and ten we mourned you,
mortals and immortals. But on the eighteenth day we gave you to the
flames. And many a fat sheep, with many an ox did we slay
in sacrifice. Around you. You were burnt in raiment of the gods,
with rich resins and with honey, while heroes horse and foot clashed their armor
round the pile, as you were burning with a tramp, as of a
great multitude. But when the flames of heaven had done their work, we
gathered your white bones at daybreak and laid them in ointments and in pure wine.
Your mother brought us a golden vase to hold them, gift of Bacchus,
in work of Vulcan himself. In this we mingled your bleached bones with
those of Protroclus, who had gone before you, and separate we enclosed also
those of Antilochus, who had been closer to you than any other of your
comrades. Now that Protroclus was no more over these the host of the Argives
built a noble tomb from a point jutting out over the open Hellespont, that
it might be seen from far out upon the sea by those now living and
by them that shall be borne hereafter, your mother begged prizes from the gods
and offered them to be contended for by the noblest of the Accaeans. You
must have been present at the funeral of many a hero, when the young
men gird themselves and make ready to contend for prizes on the death of some
great chieftain. But you never saw such prizes as silver footed Thetis offered in
your honor, For the gods loved you well. Thus, even in death,
your fame, Achilles, has not been lost, and your name lives
evermore among all mankind. But as for me, what solace had I when
the days of my fighting were done? For Jove willed my destruction on my
return by the hands of a Juststus and those of my wicked wife. Thus
did they converse, and presently Mercury came up to them with the ghosts of
the suitors who had been killed by Ulysses. The ghosts of Agamemnon and Achilles
were astonished at seeing them and went up to them at once. The ghost
of Agamemnon recognized Amphimidon, son of Melanaeus, who lived in Ithaca and had
been his host, so it began to talk to him. Amphimidon, it
said, what has happened to all you fine young men, all of an
age too, that you come down here under the ground. One could pick
no finer body of men from any city. Did Neptum raise his winds and
waves against you when you were at sea? Or did your enemies make an
end of you on the mainland when you were cattle lifting or sheep stealing,
or while fighting in defense of your wives and city? Answer my question,
for I have been your guest. Do you not remember how I came to
your house with Menelais to persuade Ulysses to join us with his ships against Troy.
It was a whole month ere we could resume our voyage, for we
had hard work to persuade Ulysses to come with us. And the ghost of
Amphimidon answered Agamemnon, son of Atrius, king of Men, I remember everything
that you have said, and will tell you fully and accurately about the way
in which our end was brought about. Ulysses had been long gone, and
we were courting his wife, who did not say point blank that she would
not marry nor yet bring matters to an end, for she meant to compass
our destruction. This, then, was the trick she played on us.
She set up a great tambour frame in her room and began to work on
an enormous piece of fine needlework. Sweethearts, said she, Ulysses, and
sindeed dead. Still, do not press me to marry again immediately, wait,
for I would not have my skill in needlework perish unrecorded till I have
completed a pall for the hero Laertes, against the time when death shall take
him. He is very rich, and the women of the place will talk
if he is laid out without a pall. This is what she said,
and we assented. Whereupon we could see her working upon her great web all
day long, but at night she would unpick the stitches again by torchlight.
She fooled us in this way for three years without our finding it out.
But As time wore on, and she was now in her fourth year in
the waning of moon, and many days had been accomplished. One of her
maids, who knew what she was doing, told us, and we caught
her in the act of undoing her work. So she had to finish it,
whether she would or no. And when she showed us the robe she
had made after she had had it washed, its splendor was as that of
the sun or moon. Then some malicious god conveyed Ulysses to the upland farm
where his swineherd lives. Thither presently came also his son, returning from a
voyage to Pylos, and the two came to the town when they had hatched
their plot for our destruction. Telemachus came first, and then after him,
accompanied by the swineherd, came Ulysses, clad in rags and leaning on a
staff, as though he were some miserable old beggar. He came so expectedly
that none of us knew him, not even the older ones among us,
and we reviled him and threw things at him. He endured both being struck
and insulted without a word, though he was in his own house, But
when the will of aegis bearing Jove inspired him. He and Telemachus took the
armor and hid it in an inner chamber, bolting the doors behind them.
Then he cunningly made his wife offer his bow and a quantity of iron,
to be contended for by us ill fated suitors. And this was the beginning
of our end, for not one of us could string the bow, nor
nearly do so. When it was about to reach the hands of Ulysses,
we all of us shouted out that it should not be given him, no
matter what he might say. But Telemachus insisted on his having it. When
he had got it in his hands, he strung it with ease and sent
his arrow through the iron. Then he stood on the floor the cloister and
poured his arrows on the ground, glaring fiercely about him. First he killed
Antinous, and then, aiming straight before him, he let fly his deadly
darts, and they fell thick on one another. It was plain that some
one of the gods was helping them, for they fell upon us with might
and main throughout the cloisters. And there was a hideous sound of groaning,
as our brains were being battered in and the ground seethed with our blood.
This, Agamemnon, is how we came by our end. And our bodies
are lying still uncared for in the house of Ulysses, for our friends at
home do not yet know what has happened, so that they cannot lay us
out and wash the black blood from our wounds, making moan over us to
the offices due to the departed. Happy Ulysses, son of Laertes, replied
the ghost of Agamemnon, you are indeed blessed in the possession of a wife
endowed with such rare excellence of understanding, and so faithful to her wedded lord,
as Penelope, the daughter of Ecarius. The fame therefore of her virtue
shall never die, and the immortals shall compose a song that shall be welcome
to all mankind in honor of the constancy of Penelope. How far otherwise was
the wickedness of the daughter of Tyndareus, who killed her wawful husband. Her
song shall be hateful among men, for she has brought disgrace on all womankind,
even on the good ones. Thus did they converse in the house of
Hades, deep down within the bowels of the earth, Meanwhile, Ulysses and
the others passed out of the town and soon reached the fair and well tilled
farm of Laertes, which he had reclaimed with infinite labor. Here was his
house, with a lean to running all round it, where the slaves who
worked for him slept and sat and ate. While inside the house there was
an old cy cellwoman who looked after him in this his country farm. When
Ulysses got there, he said to his son and to the other two,
go to the house and kill the best pig that you can find for dinner.
Meanwhile, I want to see whether my father will know me or fail
to recognize me after so long an absence. He then took off his armor
and gave it to Eumaeus and Philoetius, who went straight on to the house,
while he turned off into the vineyard to make trial of his father.
As he went down into the great orchard, he did not see Dolius nor
any of his sons, nor of the other bondsmen, for they were all
gathering thorns to make a fence for the vineyard at the place where the old
man had told them. He therefore found his father alone, hoeing a vine
He had on a dirty old shirt, patched and very shabby. His legs
were bound round with thongs of ox hide to save him from the brambles,
and he also wore sleeves of leather. He had a goat skin cap on
his head, and was looking very obegone. When Ulysses saw him, so
worn, so old, and full of sorrow, he stood still under a
tall pear tree and began to weep. He doubted whether to embrace him,
kiss him, and tell him all about his having come home, or whether
he should first question him and see what he would say. In the end,
he deemed it best to be crafty with him. So in this mind
he went up to his father, who was bending down and digging about a
plant. I see, sir, said Ulysses, that you are an excellent
gardener. What pains you take with it? To be sure, there is
not a single plant, not a fig tree, vine, olive, pear,
nor flower bed, but bears the trace of your attention. I trust,
however, that you will not be offended if I say that you take
or care of your garden than of yourself. You are old, unsavory,
and very meanly clad. It cannot be because you are idle that your master
takes such poor care of you. Indeed, your face and figure have nothing
of the slave about them, and proclaim you of noble birth. I should
have said that you were one of those who should wash well, eat well,
and lie soft at night, as old men have a right to do.
But tell me, and tell me true, whose bondsmen are you?
And in whose garden are you working? Tell me also about another matter.
Is this place that I have come to really Ithaca? I met a man
just now who said so. But he was a dull fellow and had not
the patience to hear my story out when I was asking him about an old
friend of mine, whether he was still living or was already dead and in
the house of Hades. Believe me when I tell you that this man came
to my house once when I was in my own country, and never did
yet any stranger come to me whom I liked better. He said that his
family came from Ithaca, and that his father was Laertes, son of Arsasius.
I received him hospitably, making him welcome to all the abundance of my
house, and when he went away, I gave him all the customary presents
I gave him seven talents of fine gold and a cup of slid silver with
flowers chased upon it. I gave him twelve light cloaks and as many pieces
of tapestry. I also gave him twelve cloaks of single fold, twelve rugs,
twelve fair mantles, and an equal number of shirts. To all this,
I added four good looking women, skilled in all useful arts, and
I let him take his choice. His father shed tears and answered, sir,
you have indeed come to the country that you have named, but it
has fallen into the hands of wicked people. All this wealth of presence has
been given to no purpose. If you could have found your friend here alive
in Ithaca, he would have entertained you hospitably, and would have requited your
presence amply when you left him, as would have been only right considering what
you had already given him. But tell me, and tell me true,
how many years is it since you entertained this guest, my unhappy son,
as ever was alas he has perished far from his own country. The fishes
of the sea have eaten him, or he has fallen a prey to the
birds and wild beasts of some continent. Neither his mother nor I his father,
who were his parents, could throw our arms about him and wrap him
in his shroud. Nor could his excellent and richly dowered wife, Penelope bewail
her husband as was natural upon his deathbed, and to close his eyes according
to the office's due to the departed. But now tell me, truly,
for I want to know who and whence are you. Tell me of your
town and parents. Where is the ship lying that has brought you and your
men to Ethaca? Or were you a passenger on some other man's ship,
and those who brought you here have gone on their way and left you.
I will tell you everything, answered Ulysses, quite truly. I come from
Alabas, where I have a fine house. I am son of King Affadeus,
who is the son of Polypemmon. My own name is Apparatus. Heaven
drove me off my course as I was leaving Sycania, and I have been
carried here against my will. As for my ship, it is lying over
yonder off the open country outside the town. And this is the fifth year
since Ulysses left my country. Poor fellow, Yet the Omens were good for
him when he left me. The birds all flew on our right hands,
and both he and I rejoiced to see them as we parted, for we
had every hope that we should have another friendly meaning and exchange presence. A
dark cloud of sorrow fell upon Laertes as he listened. He filled both hands
with dust from off the ground and poured it over his gray head, groaning
heavily as he did so. The heart of Ulysses was touched and his nostrils
quivered as he looked upon his father. Then he sprang towards him, flung
his arms about him, and kissed him, saying, I am he father
about whom you are asking. I have returned after having been away for twenty
years. But cease your sighing and lamentation, for we have no time to
lose. For I should tell you that I have been killing the suitors in
my house to punish them for their insolence and crimes. If you really are
my son, Ulysses, replied Laertes, and have come back again, you
must give me such manifest proof of your identity shall convince me. First observed
this scar, answered Ulysses, which I got from a boer's tusk when I
was hunt on Mount Parnassus. You and my mother had sent me to Ottolius,
my mother's father, to receive the presence which when he was over here
he had promised to give me. Furthermore, I will point out to you
the trees and the vineyard which you gave me, and I asked you all
about them as I followed you round the garden. We went over them all,
and you told me their names and what they all were. You gave
me thirteen pear trees, ten apple trees, and forty fig trees. You
also said you would give me fifty rows of vines. There was corn planted
between each row, and they yield grapes of every kind when the heat of
heaven has been laid heavy upon them. Lair to strength failed him. When
he heard the convincing proofs which his son had given him. He threw his
arms about him, and Ulysses had to poor to him or he would have
gone off into a swoon. But as soon as he came to and was
beginning to recover his senses, he said, oh, father Jove, then
you gods are still in Olympus after all, if the suitors have really been
punished for their insolence, and folly. Nevertheless, I am much afraid that
I shall have all the townspeople of Ithaca up here directly, and they will
be sending messengers everywhere throughout the cities of the Cephalenians. Ulysses answered, take
heart, and do not trouble yourself about that. But let us go into
the house hard by your garden. I have already told Telemachus, Philoetius,
and Eumaeus to go on there and get dinner ready as soon as possible.
Thus conversing, the two made their way towards the house. When they got
there, they found Telemachus, the stockman and the swinnard cutting up meat and
mixing wine with water. Then the old si celwoman took Layertis inside and washed
him and anointed him with oil. She put him on a good cloak,
and Minerva came up to him and gave him a more imposing presence, making
him taller and stouter than before. When he came back, his son was
surprised to see him looking so like an immortal, and said to him,
my dear father, some one of the gods has been making you much taller
and better looking. Layertus, answered, wood By father Jove Minerva and Apollo
that I were the man I was when I ruled among the Cephalenians and took
Nerichim, that strong fortress on the foreland. If I were still what I
then was, and had been in our house yesterday with my armor on,
I should have been able to stand by you and help you against the suitors.
I should have killed a great many of them, and you would have
rejoiced to see it. Thus did they converse, but the others, when
they had finished their work, and when the feast was ready, left off
working, and took each his proper place on the benches and seats. Then
they began eating, by and by. Old Dolius and his sons left their
work and came up for their mother. The Sisil, woman who looked after
Laertes, now that he was growing old, had been to fetch them.
When they saw Ulysses and were certain it was he, They stood there lost
in astonishment. But Ulysses scolded them good naturedly, and said, sit down
to your dinner, old man, and never mind about your surprise. We
have been wanting to begin for some time, and I've been waiting for you.
Then Dulius put out both his hands and went up to Ulysses, Sir
said, he seizing his master's hand and kissing it at the wrist. We
have been long wishing you home, and now Heaven has restored you to us,
after we had given up hoping. All hail therefore, and may the
gods prosper you. But tell me, does Penelope know of your return?
Or shall we send some one to tell her? Old man answered Ulysses,
she knows already, so you need not trouble about that. On this he
took his seat, and the sons of Dulius gathered round Ulysses to give him
greeting and embrace him, one after the other. Then they took their seats
in due order near Dulius their father. While they were thus busy getting their
dinner ready, rumor went round the town and noised abroad the terrible fate that
had befallen the suitors. As soon therefore, as the people heard of it,
they gathered from every quarter, groaning and hooting, before the house of
Ulysses. They took the dead away, buried every man his own, and
put the bodies of those who came from elsewhere on board the fishing vessels for
the fishermen to take each of them to his own place. They then met
angrily in the place of assembly, and when they were got together, Eupaethes
rose to speak. He was overwhelmed with grief for the death of his son
Antinous, who had been the first man killed by Ulysses. So he said,
weeping bitterly, my friends, this man has done the Accaian's curate wrong.
He took many of our best men away with him in his fleet,
and he has lost both ships and men. Now moreover, on his return
he has been killing all the foremost men among the Cephallenians. Let us be
up and doing before he can get away to Pylos or to Ellis, where
the Apaeans rule, or we shall be ashamed of ourselves forever afterwards. It
will be an everlasting disgrace to us if we do not avenge the murder of
our sons and brothers. For my own part, I should have no more
pleasure in life, but had rather die at once. Let us up then
and after them before they could cross over to the main land. He wept
as he spoke, and everyone pitied him, but made on and the bard
Femius had now woke up and came to them from the house of Ulysses.
Everyone was astonished at seeing them, for they stood in the middle of the
assembly, and Maidon said hear me, men of Ithaca, Ulysses did not
do these things against the will of Heaven. I myself saw an immortal God
take the form of Mentor and stand beside him. This God appeared now in
front of him, encouraging him, and now going furiously about the court and
attacking the suitors, whereon they fell thick on one another. On this pale
fear laid hold of them, and old Halithses, son of Mastor, rose
to speak, for he was the only man among them who knew both past
and future. So he spoke to them plainly and in all honesty, saying,
men of Ithaca, it is all your own fault that things have turned
out as they have. You would not listen to me, nor yet to
Mentor when he bade you check the folly of your sons, who were doing
much wrong in the wantonness of their hearts, wasting the substance, and dishonoring
the wife of a chieftain who they thought would not return. Now, however,
let it be as I say, and do as I tell you,
do not go out against Ulysses, or you may find that you have been
drawing down evil on your own heads. That was what he said, And
more than half raised a loud shout, and at once left the assembly.
But the rest stayed where they were, for the speech of Halitherses displeased them,
and they sided with Eupaethes. They therefore hurried off for their armor,
and when they had armed themselves, they met together in front of the city,
and Eupaiethes led them on. In their folly, he thought he was
going to avenge the murder of his son, whereas in truth he was never
to return, but was himself to perish in his attempt. Then Minerva said
to Jove, father son of Saturn, King of Kings, answer me this
question. What do you propose to do? Will you set them fighting still
further? Or will you make peace between them? And Jove answered, my
child, why should you ask me? Was it not by your own arrangement
that Ulysses came home and took his revenge upon the suitors. Do whatever you
like, but I will tell you what I think will be the most reasonable
arrangement. Now that Ulysses is revenged, Let them swear to a solemn covenant
in virtue of which he shall continue to rule, while we cause the others
to forgive and forget the massacre of their sons and brothers. Let them then
all become friends as heretofore, and let peace and plenty reign. This was
what Minerva was already eager to bring about, so down she darted from off
the topmost summits of Olympus. Now, when Laertes and the others had done
dinner, Ulysses began by saying, some of you, go out and see
if they are not getting close up to us. So one of Dolis's sons
went, as he was bid. Standing on the threshold, he could see
them all quite near, and said to Ulysses, here they are, Let
us put on our armor at once. They put on their armor as fast
as they could, that is to say, Ulysses, his three men,
and the six sons of Dulius. Laertes also, and Dulius did the same
warriors by necessity, in spite of their gray hair. When they had all
put on their armor, they opened the gate and sallied forth, Ulysses leading
the way. Then Jove's daughter Minerva came up to them, having assumed the
form and voice of mentor. Ulysses was glad when he saw her and said
to his son Telemachus, Telemachus, now that you are about to fight in
an engagement which will show every man's metal, be sure not to disgrace your
ancestors, who were eminent for their strength and courage all the world over.
You say truly, my dear father and her Telemachus, and you shall see,
if you will, that I am in no mind to disgrace your family.
Laertes was delighted when he heard this. Good Heavens, he exclaimed,
what a day I am enjoying. I do indeed rejoice at it. My
son and grandson are vine with one another in the matter of valor. On
this Minerva came close up to him and said, son of Arcisius, best
friend I have in the world, pray to the blue eyed damsel and to
jove her father. Then poise your spear and hurl it. As she spoke,
she infused fresh vigor into him, and when he had prayed to her,
he poised his spear and hurled it. He hit you payeth thee's helmet,
and the spear went right through it. For the helmets stayed at nut,
and the armor rang rattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground.
Meanwhile, Ulysses and his son fell upon the front line of the foe
and smote them with their swords and spears. Indeed, they would have killed
every one of them and prevented them from ever getting home again. Only Minerva
raised her voice aloud and made everyone pause. Men of Ithaca, She cried,
cease this dreadful war, and settle the matter at once without further bloodshed.
On this pale fear seized everyone. They were so frightened that their arms
dropped from their hands and fell upon the ground at the sound of the Goddess's
voice, and they fled back to the city for their lives. But Ulysses
gave a great cry, and, gathering himself together, swooped down like a
soaring eagle. Then the son of Saturn sent a thunderbolt of fire that fell
just in front of Minerva. So she said to Ulysses, Ulysses, noble
son of Laertes, stop this warful strife, or Jove will be angry with
you. Thus spoke Minerva, and Ulysses obeyed her gladly. Then Minerva assumed
the form and voice of Mentor, and presently made a covenant of peace between
the two contending parties. End of Book twenty four and end of the Odyssey
by Homer, as translated by Samuel Butler.