SCORPION

During the sacking of the city of Troy the Greeks, in the hour of victory,
committed many acts of desecration and cruelty, which called down upon them
the wrath of the {305} gods, for which reason their homeward voyage was
beset with manifold dangers and disasters, and many perished before they
reached their native land.

Nestor, Diomedes, Philoctetes, and Neoptolemus were among those who arrived
safely in Greece after a prosperous voyage. The vessel which carried
Menelaus and Helen was driven by violent tempests to the coast of Egypt,
and only after many years of weary wanderings and vicissitudes did they
succeed in reaching their home at Sparta.

Ajax the Lesser having offended Pallas-Athene by desecrating her temple on
the night of the destruction of Troy, was shipwrecked off Cape Caphareus.
He succeeded, however, in clinging to a rock, and his life might have been
spared but for his impious boast that he needed not the help of the gods.
No sooner had he uttered the sacrilegious words than Poseidon, enraged at
his audacity, split with his trident the rock to which the hero was
clinging, and the unfortunate Ajax was overwhelmed by the waves.

FATE OF AGAMEMNON.--The homeward voyage of Agamemnon was tolerably
uneventful and prosperous; but on his arrival at Mycenж misfortune and ruin
awaited him.

His wife Clytemnestra, in revenge for the sacrifice of her beloved daughter
Iphigenia, had formed a secret alliance during his absence with Жgisthus,
the son of Thyestes, and on the return of Agamemnon they both conspired to
compass his destruction. Clytemnestra feigned the greatest joy on beholding
her husband, and in spite of the urgent warnings of Cassandra, who was now
a captive in his train, he received her protestations of affection with the
most trusting confidence. In her well-assumed anxiety for the comfort of
the weary traveller, she prepared a warm bath for his refreshment, and at a
given signal from the treacherous queen, Жgisthus, who was concealed in an
adjoining chamber, rushed upon the defenceless hero and slew him. {306}

During the massacre of the retainers of Agamemnon which followed, his
daughter Electra, with great presence of mind, contrived to save her young
brother Orestes. He fled for refuge to his uncle Strophius, king of Phocis,
who educated him with his own son Pylades, and an ardent friendship sprung
up between the youths, which, from its constancy and disinterestedness, has
become proverbial.

As Orestes grew up to manhood, his one great all-absorbing desire was to
avenge the death of his father. Accompanied by his faithful friend Pylades,
he repaired in disguise to Mycenж, where Жgisthus and Clytemnestra reigned
conjointly over the kingdom of Argos. In order to disarm suspicion he had
taken the precaution to despatch a messenger to Clytemnestra, purporting to
be sent by king Strophius, to announce to her the untimely death of her son
Orestes through an accident during a chariot-race at Delphi.

Arrived at Mycenж, he found his sister Electra so overwhelmed with grief at
the news of her brother's death that to her he revealed his identity. When
he heard from her lips how cruelly she had been treated by her mother, and
how joyfully the news of his demise had been received, his long pent-up
passion completely overpowered him, and rushing into the presence of the
king and queen, he first pierced Clytemnestra to the heart, and afterwards
her guilty partner.

But the crime of murdering his own mother was not long unavenged by the
gods. Hardly was the fatal act committed when the Furies appeared and
unceasingly pursued the unfortunate Orestes wherever he went. In this
wretched plight he sought refuge in the temple of Delphi, where he
earnestly besought Apollo to release him from his cruel tormentors. The god
commanded him, in expiation of his crime, to repair to Taurica-Chersonnesus
and convey the statue of Artemis from thence to the kingdom of Attica, an
expedition fraught with extreme peril. We have already seen in a former
chapter how Orestes escaped the fate which befell all strangers {307} who
landed on the Taurian coast, and how, with the aid of his sister Iphigenia,
the priestess of the temple, he succeeded in conveying the statue of the
goddess to his native country.

But the Furies did not so easily relinquish their prey, and only by means
of the interposition of the just and powerful goddess Pallas-Athene was
Orestes finally liberated from their persecution. His peace of mind being
at length restored, Orestes assumed the government of the kingdom of Argos,
and became united to the beautiful Hermione, daughter of Helen and
Menelaus. On his faithful friend Pylades he bestowed the hand of his
beloved sister, the good and faithful Electra.

HOMEWARD VOYAGE OF ODYSSEUS.--With his twelve ships laden with enormous
treasures, captured during the sacking of Troy, Odysseus set sail with a
light heart for his rocky island home of Ithaca. At length the happy hour
had arrived which for ten long years the hero had so anxiously awaited, and
he little dreamt that ten more must elapse before he would be permitted by
the Fates to clasp to his heart his beloved wife and child.

During his homeward voyage his little fleet was driven by stress of weather
to a land whose inhabitants subsisted entirely on a curious plant called
the lotus, which was sweet as honey to the taste, but had the effect of
causing utter oblivion of home and country, and of creating an irresistible
longing to remain for ever in the land of the lotus-eaters. Odysseus and
his companions were hospitably received by the inhabitants, who regaled
them freely with their peculiar and very delicious food; after partaking of
which, however, the comrades of the hero refused to leave the country, and
it was only by sheer force that he at length succeeded in bringing them
back to their ships.

POLYPHEMUS.--Continuing their journey, they next arrived at the country of
the Cyclops, a race of giants remarkable for having only one eye, which was
placed in the centre of their foreheads. Here Odysseus, whose love of
adventure overcame more prudent considerations, {308} left his fleet safely
anchored in the bay of a neighbouring island, and with twelve chosen
companions set out to explore the country.

Near the shore they found a vast cave, into which they boldly entered. In
the interior they saw to their surprise huge piles of cheese and great
pails of milk ranged round the walls. After partaking freely of these
provisions his companions endeavoured to persuade Odysseus to return to the
ship; but the hero being curious to make the acquaintance of the owner of
this extraordinary abode, ordered them to remain and await his pleasure.

Towards evening a fierce giant made his appearance, bearing an enormous
load of wood upon his shoulders, and driving before him a large flock of
sheep. This was Polyphemus, the son of Poseidon, the owner of the cave.
After all his sheep had entered, the giant rolled before the entrance to
the cave an enormous rock, which the combined strength of a hundred men
would have been powerless to move.

Having kindled a fire of great logs of pine-wood he was about to prepare
his supper when the flames revealed to him, in a corner of the cavern, its
new occupants, who now came forward and informed him that they were
shipwrecked mariners, and claimed his hospitality in the name of Zeus. But
the fierce monster railed at the great ruler of Olympus--for the lawless
Cyclops knew no fear of the gods--and hardly vouchsafed a reply to the
demand of the hero. To the consternation of Odysseus the giant seized two
of his companions, and, after dashing them to the ground, consumed their
remains, washing down the ghastly meal with huge draughts of milk. He then
stretched his gigantic limbs on the ground, and soon fell fast asleep
beside the fire.

Thinking the opportunity a favourable one to rid himself and his companions
of their terrible enemy, Odysseus drew his sword, and, creeping stealthily
forward, was about to slay the giant when he suddenly remembered that the
aperture of the cave was effectually closed by the immense rock, which
rendered egress impossible. He {309} therefore wisely determined to wait
until the following day, and set his wits to work in the meantime to devise
a scheme by which he and his companions might make their escape.

When, early next morning, the giant awoke, two more unfortunate companions
of the hero were seized by him and devoured; after which Polyphemus
leisurely drove out his flock, taking care to secure the entrance of the
cave as before.

Next evening the giant devoured two more of his victims, and when he had
finished his revolting meal Odysseus stepped forward and presented him with
a large measure of wine which he had brought with him from his ship in a
goat's skin. Delighted with the delicious beverage the giant inquired the
name of the donor. Odysseus replied that his name was Noman, whereupon
Polyphemus, graciously announced that he would evince his gratitude by
eating him the last.

The monster, thoroughly overcome with the powerful old liquor, soon fell
into a heavy sleep, and Odysseus lost no time in putting his plans into
execution. He had cut during the day a large piece of the giant's own
olive-staff, which he now heated in the fire, and, aided by his companions,
thrust it into the eye-ball of Polyphemus, and in this manner effectually
blinded him.

The giant made the cave resound with his howls of pain and rage. His cries
being heard by his brother Cyclops, who lived in caves not far distant from
his own, they soon came trooping over the hills from all sides, and
assailed the door of the cave with inquiries concerning the cause of his
cries and groans. But as his only reply was, "Noman has injured me," they
concluded that he had been playing them a trick, and therefore abandoned
him to his fate.

The blinded giant now groped vainly round his cave in hopes of laying hands
on some of his tormentors; but wearied at length of these fruitless
exertions he rolled away the rock which closed the aperture, thinking that
his victims would rush out with the sheep, when it would {310} be an easy
matter to capture them. But in the meantime Odysseus had not been idle, and
the subtlety of the hero was now brought into play, and proved more than a
match for the giant's strength. The sheep were very large, and Odysseus,
with bands of willow taken from the bed of Polyphemus, had cleverly linked
them together three abreast, and under each centre one had secured one of
his comrades. After providing for the safety of his companions, Odysseus
himself selected the finest ram of the flock, and, by clinging to the wool
of the animal, made his escape. As the sheep passed out of the cave the
giant felt carefully among them for his victims, but not finding them on
the backs of the animals he let them pass, and thus they all escaped.

They now hastened on board their vessel, and Odysseus, thinking himself at
a safe distance, shouted out his real name and mockingly defied the giant;
whereupon Polyphemus seized a huge rock, and, following the direction of
the voice, hurled it towards the ship, which narrowly escaped destruction.
He then called upon his father Poseidon to avenge him, entreating him to
curse Odysseus with a long and tedious voyage, to destroy all his ships and
all his companions, and to make his return as late, as unhappy, and as
desolate as possible.

FURTHER ADVENTURES.--After sailing about over unknown seas for some time
the hero and his followers cast anchor at the island of Жolus, king of the
Winds, who welcomed them cordially, and sumptuously entertained them for a
whole month.

When they took their leave he gave Odysseus the skin of an ox, into which
he had placed all the contrary winds in order to insure to them a safe and
speedy voyage, and then, having cautioned him on no account to open it,
caused the gentle Zephyrus to blow so that he might waft them to the shores
of Greece.

On the evening of the tenth day after their departure they arrived in sight
of the watch-fires of Ithaca. But here, unfortunately, Odysseus, being
completely wearied {311} out, fell asleep, and his comrades, thinking Жolus
had given him a treasure in the bag which he so sedulously guarded, seized
this opportunity of opening it, whereupon all the adverse winds rushed out,
and drove them back to the Жolian island. This time, however, Жolus did not
welcome them as before, but dismissed them with bitter reproaches and
upbraidings for their disregard of his injunctions.

After a six days' voyage they at length sighted land. Observing what
appeared to be the smoke from a large town, Odysseus despatched a herald,
accompanied by two of his comrades, in order to procure provisions. When
they arrived in the city they discovered to their consternation that they
had set foot in the land of the Lжstrygones, a race of fierce and gigantic
cannibals, governed by their king Antiphates. The unfortunate herald was
seized and killed by the king; but his two companions, who took to flight,
succeeded in reaching their ship in safety, and urgently entreated their
chief to put to sea without delay.

But Antiphates and his fellow-giants pursued the fugitives to the
sea-shore, where they now appeared in large numbers. They seized huge
rocks, which they hurled upon the fleet, sinking eleven of the ships with
all hands, on board; the vessel under the immediate command of Odysseus
being the only one which escaped destruction. In this ship, with his few
remaining followers, Odysseus now set sail, but was driven by adverse winds
to an island called Жжa.

CIRCE.--The hero and his companions were in sore need of provisions, but,
warned by previous disasters, Odysseus resolved that only a certain number
of the ship's crew should be despatched to reconnoitre the country; and on
lots being drawn by Odysseus and Eurylochus, it fell to the share of the
latter to fill the office of conductor to the little band selected for this
purpose.

They soon came to a magnificent marble palace, which was situated in a
charming and fertile valley. Here {312} dwelt a beautiful enchantress
called Circe, daughter of the sun-god and the sea-nymph Perse. The entrance
to her abode was guarded by wolves and lions, who, however, to the great
surprise of the strangers, were tame and harmless as lambs. These were, in
fact, human beings who, by the wicked arts of the sorceress, had been thus
transformed. From within they heard the enchanting voice of the goddess,
who was singing a sweet melody as she sat at her work, weaving a web such
as immortals alone could produce. She graciously invited them to enter, and
all save the prudent and cautious Eurylochus accepted the invitation.

As they trod the wide and spacious halls of tesselated marble objects of
wealth and beauty met their view on all sides. The soft and luxuriant
couches on which she bade them be seated were studded with silver, and the
banquet which she provided for their refreshment was served in vessels of
pure gold. But while her unsuspecting guests were abandoning themselves to
the pleasures of the table the wicked enchantress was secretly working
their ruin; for the wine-cup which was presented to them was drugged with a
potent draught, after partaking of which the sorceress touched them with
her magic wand, and they were immediately transformed into swine, still,
however, retaining their human senses.

When Odysseus heard from Eurylochus of the terrible fate which had befallen
his companions he set out, regardless of personal danger, resolved to make
an effort to rescue them. On his way to the palace of the sorceress he met
a fair youth bearing a wand of gold, who revealed himself to him as Hermes,
the divine messenger of the gods. He gently reproached the hero for his
temerity in venturing to enter the abode of Circe unprovided with an
antidote against her spells, and presented him with a peculiar herb called
Moly, assuring him that it would inevitably counteract the baneful arts of
the fell enchantress. Hermes warned Odysseus that Circe would offer him a
draught of drugged wine with the intention of transforming him as she had
done his companions. He bade him drink the wine, the effect of {313} which
would be completely nullified by the herb which he had given him, and then
rush boldly at the sorceress as though he would take her life, whereupon
her power over him would cease, she would recognize her master, and grant
him whatever he might desire.

Circe received the hero with all the grace and fascination at her command,
and presented him with a draught of wine in a golden goblet. This he
readily accepted, trusting to the efficacy of the antidote. Then, in
obedience to the injunction of Hermes, he drew his sword from its scabbard
and rushed upon the sorceress as though he would slay her.

When Circe found that her fell purpose was for the first time frustrated,
and that a mortal had dared to attack her, she knew that it must be the
great Odysseus who stood before her, whose visit to her abode had been
foretold to her by Hermes. At his solicitation she restored to his
companions their human form, promising at the same time that henceforth the
hero and his comrades should be free from her enchantments.

But all warnings and past experience were forgotten by Odysseus when Circe
commenced to exercise upon him her fascinations and blandishments. At her
request his companions took up their abode in the island, and he himself
became the guest and slave of the enchantress for a whole year; and it was
only at the earnest admonition of his friends that he was at length induced
to free himself from her toils.

Circe had become so attached to the gallant hero that it cost her a great
effort to part with him, but having vowed not to exercise her magic spells
against him she was powerless to detain him further. The goddess now warned
him that his future would be beset with many dangers, and commanded him to
consult the blind old seer Tiresias,[52] in the realm of Hades, concerning
his future destiny. She then loaded his ship with provisions for the
voyage, and reluctantly bade him farewell.

{314}

THE REALM OF SHADES.--Though somewhat appalled at the prospect of seeking
the weird and gloomy realms inhabited by the spirits of the dead, Odysseus
nevertheless obeyed the command of the goddess, who gave him full
directions with regard to his course, and also certain injunctions which it
was important that he should carry out with strict attention to detail.

He accordingly set sail with his companions for the dark and gloomy land of
the Cimmerians, which lay at the furthermost end of the world, beyond the
great stream Oceanus. Favoured by gentle breezes they soon reached their
destination in the far west. On arriving at the spot indicated by Circe,
where the turbid waters of the rivers Acheron and Cocytus mingled at the
entrance to the lower world, Odysseus landed, unattended by his companions.

Having dug a trench to receive the blood of the sacrifices he now offered a
black ram and ewe to the powers of darkness, whereupon crowds of shades
rose up from the yawning gulf, clustering round him, eager to quaff the
blood of the sacrifice, which would restore to them for a time their mental
vigour. But mindful of the injunction of Circe, Odysseus brandished his
sword, and suffered none to approach until Tiresias had appeared. The great
prophet now came slowly forward leaning on his golden staff, and after
drinking of the sacrifice proceeded to impart to Odysseus the hidden
secrets of his future fate. Tiresias also warned him of the numerous perils
which would assail him, not only during his homeward voyage but also on his
return to Ithaca, and then instructed him how to avoid them.

Meanwhile numbers of other shades had quaffed the sense-awakening draught
of the sacrifice, among whom Odysseus recognized to his dismay his
tenderly-loved mother Anticlea. From her he learned that she had died of
grief at her son's protracted absence, and that his aged father Laertes was
wearing his life away in vain and anxious longings for his return. He also
conversed with the ill-fated Agamemnon, Patroclus, and Achilles. The latter
{315} bemoaned his shadowy and unreal existence, and plaintively assured
his former companion-in-arms that rather would he be the poorest
day-labourer on earth than reign supreme as king over the realm of shades.
Ajax alone, who still brooded over his wrongs, held aloof, refusing to
converse with Odysseus, and sullenly retired when the hero addressed him.

But at last so many shades came swarming round him that the courage of
Odysseus failed him, and he fled in terror back to his ship. Having
rejoined his companions they once more put to sea, and proceeded on their
homeward voyage.

THE SIRENS.--After some days' sail their course led them past the island of
the Sirens.

Now Circe had warned Odysseus on no account to listen to the seductive
melodies of these treacherous nymphs; for that all who gave ear to their
enticing strains felt an unconquerable desire to leap overboard and join
them, when they either perished at their hands, or were engulfed by the
waves.

In order that his crew should not hear the song of the Sirens, Odysseus had
filled their ears with melted wax; but the hero himself so dearly loved
adventure that he could not resist the temptation of braving this new
danger. By his own desire, therefore, he was lashed to the mast, and his
comrades had strict orders on no account to release him until they were out
of sight of the island, no matter how he might implore them to set him
free.

As they neared the fatal shore they beheld the Sirens seated side by side
on the verdant slopes of their island; and as their sweet and alluring
strains fell upon his ear the hero became so powerfully affected by them,
that, forgetful of all danger, he entreated his comrades to release him;
but the sailors, obedient to their orders, refused to unbind him until the
enchanted island had disappeared from view. The danger past, the hero
gratefully acknowledged the firmness of his followers, which had been the
means of saving his life. {316}

THE ISLAND OF HELIOS.--They now approached the terrible dangers of Scylla
and Charybdis, between which Circe had desired them to pass. As Odysseus
steered the vessel beneath the great rock, Scylla swooped down and seized
six of his crew from the deck, and the cries of her wretched victims long
rang in his ears. At length they reached the island of Trinacria (Sicily),
whereon the sun-god pastured his flocks and herds, and Odysseus, calling to
mind the warning of Tiresias to avoid this sacred island, would fain have
steered the vessel past and left the country unexplored. But his crew
became mutinous, and insisted on landing. Odysseus was therefore obliged to
yield, but before allowing them to set foot on shore he made them take an
oath not to touch the sacred herds of Helios, and to be ready to sail again
on the following morning.

It happened, unfortunately, however, that stress of weather compelled them
to remain a whole month at Trinacria, and the store of wine and food given
to them by Circe at parting being completely exhausted, they were obliged
to subsist on what fish and birds the island afforded. Frequently there was
not sufficient to satisfy their hunger, and one evening when Odysseus, worn
out with anxiety and fatigue, had fallen asleep, Eurylochus persuaded the
hungry men to break their vows and kill some of the sacred oxen.

Dreadful was the anger of Helios, who caused the hides of the slaughtered
animals to creep and the joints on the spits to bellow like living cattle,
and threatened that unless Zeus punished the impious crew he would withdraw
his light from the heavens and shine only in Hades. Anxious to appease the
enraged deity Zeus assured him that his cause should be avenged. When,
therefore, after feasting for seven days Odysseus and his companions again
set sail, the ruler of Olympus caused a terrible storm to overtake them,
during which the ship was struck with lightning and went to pieces. All the
crew were drowned except Odysseus, who, clinging to a mast, floated about
in the open sea for nine days, when, after once more {317} escaping being
sucked in by the whirlpool of Charybdis, he was cast ashore on the island
of Ogygia.

CALYPSO.--Ogygia was an island covered with dense forests, where, in the
midst of a grove of cypress and poplar, stood the charming grotto-palace of
the nymph Calypso, daughter of the Titan Atlas. The entrance to the grotto
was entwined with a leafy trellis-work of vine-branches, from which
depended clusters of purple and golden grapes; the plashing of fountains
gave a delicious sense of coolness to the air, which was filled with the
songs of birds, and the ground was carpeted with violets and mosses.

Calypso cordially welcomed the forlorn and shipwrecked hero, and hospitably
ministered to his wants. In the course of time she became so greatly
attached to him that she offered him immortality and eternal youth if he
would consent to remain with her for ever. But the heart of Odysseus turned
yearningly towards his beloved wife Penelope and his young son. He
therefore refused the boon, and earnestly entreated the gods to permit him
to revisit his home. But the curse of Poseidon still followed the
unfortunate hero, and for seven long years he was detained on the island by
Calypso, sorely against his will.

At length Pallas-Athene interceded with her mighty father on his behalf,
and Zeus, yielding to her request, forthwith despatched the fleet-footed
Hermes to Calypso, commanding her to permit Odysseus to depart and to
provide him with the means of transport.

The goddess, though loath to part with her guest, dared not disobey the
commands of the mighty Zeus. She therefore instructed the hero how to
construct a raft, for which she herself wove the sails. Odysseus now bade
her farewell, and alone and unaided embarked on the frail little craft for
his native land.

NAUSICAA.--For seventeen days Odysseus contrived to pilot the raft
skilfully through all the perils of the deep, directing his course
according to the directions {318} of Calypso, and guided by the stars of
heaven. On the eighteenth day he joyfully hailed the distant outline of the
Phжacian coast, and began to look forward hopefully to temporary rest and
shelter. But Poseidon, still enraged with the hero who had blinded and
insulted his son, caused an awful tempest to arise, during which the raft
was swamped by the waves, and Odysseus only saved himself by clinging for
bare life to a portion of the wreck.

For two days and nights he floated about, drifted hither and thither by the
angry billows, till at last, after many a narrow escape of his life, the
sea-goddess Leucothea came to his aid, and he was cast ashore on the coast
of Scheria, the island of the luxurious Phжaces. Worn out with the
hardships and dangers he had passed through he crept into a thicket for
security, and, lying down on a bed of dried leaves, soon fell fast asleep.

It chanced that Nausicaa, the beautiful daughter of king Alcinous and his
queen Arete, had come down to the shore, accompanied by her maidens, to
wash the linen which was destined to form part of her marriage portion.
When they had finished their task they bathed and sat down to a repast,
after which they amused themselves with singing and playing at ball.

Their joyous shouts at last awoke Odysseus, who, rising from his hiding
place, suddenly found himself in the midst of the happy group. Alarmed at
his wild aspect the attendants of Nausicaa fled in terror; but the
princess, pitying the forlorn condition of the stranger, addressed him with
kind and sympathetic words. After hearing from him the account of his
shipwreck and the terrible hardships he had undergone, Nausicaa called back
her attendants, reproached them for their want of courtesy, and bade them
supply the wanderer with food, drink, and suitable raiment. Odysseus then
left the maidens to resume their games, whilst he bathed and clothed
himself with the garments with which they had furnished him. Athene now
appeared to the hero and endowed him with a commanding and magnificent
stature, and with more than mortal beauty. When he reappeared, the young
{319} princess was struck with admiration, and requested the hero to visit
the palace of her father. She then desired her attendants to yoke the mules
to the wagons and prepare to return home.

Odysseus was cordially received by the king and queen, who entertained him
with magnificent hospitality, and in return for their kindness the hero
related to them the history of his long and eventful voyage, and the many
extraordinary adventures and miraculous escapes which had befallen him
since his departure from the coast of Ilion.

When he at last took leave of his royal entertainers Alcinous loaded him
with rich gifts, and ordered him to be conveyed in one of his own ships to
Ithaca.

ARRIVAL AT ITHACA.--The voyage was a short and prosperous one. By the
direction of king Alcinous rich furs had been laid on deck for the comfort
of his guest, on which the hero, leaving the guidance of the ship to the
Phжacian sailors, soon fell into a deep sleep. When next morning the vessel
arrived in the harbour of Ithaca the sailors, concluding that so unusually
profound a slumber must be sent by the gods, conveyed him on shore without
disturbing him, where they gently placed him beneath the cool shade of an
olive-tree.

When Odysseus awoke he knew not where he was, for his ever-watchful
protectress Pallas-Athene had enveloped him in a thick cloud in order to
conceal him from view. She now appeared to him in the disguise of a
shepherd, and informed him that he was in his native land; that his father
Laertes, bent with sorrow and old age, had withdrawn from the court; that
his son Telemachus had grown to manhood, and was gone to seek for tidings
of his father; and that his wife Penelope was harassed by the importunities
of numerous suitors, who had taken possession of his home and devoured his
substance. In order to gain time Penelope had promised to marry one of her
lovers as soon as she had finished weaving a robe for the aged Laertes; but
by secretly undoing at night {320} what she had done in the day she
effectually retarded the completion of the work, and thus deferred her
final reply. Just as Odysseus had set foot in Ithaca the angry suitors had
discovered her stratagem, and had become in consequence more clamorous than
ever. When the hero heard that this was indeed his native land, which,
after an absence of twenty years, the gods had at length permitted him to
behold once more, he threw himself on the ground, and kissed it in an
ecstacy of joy.

The goddess, who had meanwhile revealed her identity to Odysseus, now
assisted him to conceal in a neighbouring cave the valuable gifts of the
Phжacian king. Then seating herself beside him she consulted with him as to
the best means of ridding his palace of its shameless occupants.

In order to prevent his being recognized she caused him to assume the form
of an aged mendicant. His limbs became decrepid, his brown locks vanished,
his eyes grew dim and bleared, and the regal robes given to him by king
Alcinous were replaced by a tattered garb of dingy hue, which hung loosely
round his shrunken form. Athene then desired him to seek shelter in the hut
of Eumжus his own swine-herd.

Eumжus received the old beggar hospitably, kindly ministered to his wants,
and even confided to him his distress at the long continued absence of his
beloved old master, and his regrets at being compelled by the unruly
invaders of his house, to slaughter for their use all the finest and
fattest of the herd.

It chanced that the following morning Telemachus returned from his long and
fruitless search for his father, and going first to the hut of Eumжus,
heard from him the story of the seeming beggar whom he promised to
befriend. Athene now urged Odysseus to make himself known to his son; and
at her touch his beggar's rags disappeared, and he stood before Telemachus
arrayed in royal robes and in the full strength and vigour of manhood. So
imposing was the appearance of the hero that at first the young prince
thought he must be a god; but when {321} he was convinced that it was
indeed his beloved father, whose prolonged absence had caused him so much
grief, he fell upon his neck and embraced him with every expression of
dutiful affection.

Odysseus charged Telemachus to keep his return a secret, and concerted with
him a plan whereby they might rid themselves of the detested suitors. In
order to carry it into effect Telemachus was to induce his mother to
promise her hand to the one who could conquer in shooting with the famous
bow of Odysseus, which the hero had left behind when he went to Troy,
deeming it too precious a treasure to be taken with him. Odysseus now
resumed his beggar's dress and appearance and accompanied his son to the
palace, before the door of which lay his faithful dog Argo, who, though
worn and feeble with age and neglect, instantly recognized his master. In
his delight the poor animal made a last effort to welcome him; but his
strength was exhausted, and he expired at his feet.

When Odysseus entered his ancestral halls he was mocked and reviled by the
riotous suitors, and Antinous, the most shameless of them all, ridiculed
his abject appearance, and insolently bade him depart; but Penelope hearing
of their cruel conduct, was touched with compassion, and desired her
maidens to bring the poor mendicant into her presence. She spoke kindly to
him, inquiring who he was and whence he came. He told her that he was the
brother of the king of Crete, in whose palace he had seen Odysseus, who was
about starting for Ithaca, and had declared his intention of arriving there
before the year was out. The queen, overjoyed at the happy tidings, ordered
her maidens to prepare a bed for the stranger, and to treat him as an
honoured guest. She then desired the old nurse Euryclea to provide him with
suitable raiment and to attend to all his wants.

As the old servant was bathing his feet her eyes fell upon a scar which
Odysseus had received in his youth from the tusks of a wild boar; and
instantly recognizing the beloved master whom she had nursed as a babe, she
{322} would have cried aloud in her joy, but the hero placing his hand upon
her mouth, implored her not to betray him.

The next day was a festival of Apollo, and the suitors in honour of the
occasion feasted with more than their accustomed revelry. After the banquet
was over Penelope, taking down the great bow of Odysseus from its place,
entered the hall and declared that whosoever of her lovers could bend it
and send an arrow through twelve rings (a feat which she had often seen
Odysseus perform) should be chosen by her as her husband.

All the suitors tried their skill, but in vain; not one possessed the
strength required to draw the bow. Odysseus now stepped forward and asked
permission to be allowed to try, but the haughty nobles mocked at his
audacity, and would not have permitted it had not Telemachus interfered.
The pretended beggar took up the bow, and with the greatest ease sent an
arrow whizzing through the rings; then turning to Antinous, who was just
raising a goblet of wine to his lips, he pierced him to the heart. At this
the suitors sprang to their feet and looked round for their arms; but in
obedience to the instructions of Odysseus Telemachus had previously removed
them. He and his father now attacked the riotous revellers, and after a
desperate encounter not one of the whole crew remained alive.

The joyful intelligence of the return of Odysseus being conveyed to
Penelope she descended to the hall, but refused to recognize, in the aged
beggar, her gallant husband; whereupon he retired to the bath, from which
he emerged in all the vigour and beauty with which Athene had endowed him
at the court of Alcinous. But Penelope, still incredulous, determined to
put him to a sure test. She therefore commanded in his hearing that his own
bed should be brought from his chamber. Now the foot of this bed had been
fashioned by Odysseus himself out of the stem of an olive-tree which was
still rooted in the ground, and round it he had built the walls of the
chamber. Knowing therefore that the bed could not be moved, he exclaimed
that the errand was useless, for that no {323} mortal could stir it from
its place. Then Penelope knew that it must be Odysseus himself who stood
before her, and a most touching and affectionate meeting took place between
the long-separated husband and wife.

The following day the hero set out to seek his old father Laertes, whom he
found on one of his estates in the country engaged in digging up a young
olive-tree. The poor old man, who was dressed in the humble garb of a
labourer, bore the traces of deep grief on his furrowed countenance, and so
shocked was his son at the change in his appearance that for a moment he
turned aside to conceal his tears.

When Odysseus revealed himself to his father as the son whom he had so long
mourned as lost, the joy of the poor old man was almost greater than he
could bear. With loving care Odysseus led him into the house, where at
length, for the first time since the departure of his son, Laertes once
more resumed his regal robes, and piously thanked the gods for this great
and unlooked-for happiness.

But not yet was the hero permitted to enjoy his well-earned repose, for the
friends and relatives of the suitors now rose in rebellion against him and
pursued him to the abode of his father. The struggle, however, was but a
short one. After a brief contest negotiations of a peaceful nature were
entered into between Odysseus and his subjects. Recognizing the justice of
his cause, they became reconciled to their chief, who for many years
continued to reign over them.