Homer · a new plain-English translation from the Greek
The sun sprang up, leaving the beautiful sea, into the bronze sky, to shine for the immortals and for mortal men on the grain-giving earth. And they came to Pylos, Neleus's well-built city, where the people were on the shore of the sea offering sacrifice, black bulls without blemish, to the dark-haired Earthshaker. Nine companies sat there, five hundred men in each, and each company had nine bulls set before it. They had just tasted the entrails and were burning the thigh-pieces to the god when the travelers ran their ship straight in.
They furled the sail, lifted it down, moored the ship, and stepped out. Telemachus climbed down from the ship, with Athena leading the way. The goddess, gray-eyed Athena, spoke to him first: "Telemachus, you must set aside shyness now, every bit of it. You sailed the sea for this very reason, to learn about your father, where the earth hid him and what fate he met. So go now, straight to Nestor, breaker of horses. Let us see what counsel he keeps hidden in his heart. Beg him yourself to tell you the plain truth. He will not lie to you, for he is a man of great good sense."
Thoughtful Telemachus answered her: "Mentor, how shall I go up to him? How shall I greet him? I have no practice yet in shrewd speech, and besides, a young man feels shame questioning an elder." And the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, answered him again: "Telemachus, some things you will think of yourself in your own heart, and the rest a god will put into your mind. I do not believe you were born and raised against the will of the gods." So speaking, Pallas Athena led the way briskly, and he followed after in the tracks of the goddess.
They came to the gathering and the seats of the Pylian men, where Nestor sat with his sons, and around them his companions were preparing the feast, roasting some meats and spitting others. When they saw the strangers, all of them came together in a body, clasped their hands in welcome, and bade them sit. Nestor's son Peisistratus came forward first, took the hands of both, and seated them at the feast on soft fleeces spread on the sandy shore, beside his brother Thrasymedes and his father. He gave them portions of the entrails and poured wine
into a golden cup. Then, welcoming Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis, he spoke to her: "Pray now, stranger, to lord Poseidon, since it is his feast you have come upon on your arrival here. When you have poured the libation and prayed, as custom requires, give this cup of honey-sweet wine to your companion too, so that he may pour and pray, for I think he also must pray to the immortals -- all men have need of the gods. But he is younger, of an age with myself, so I will give the golden cup to you first."
So saying he placed the cup of sweet wine in her hand, and Athena rejoiced that the sensible, righteous man had given the golden cup to her first. At once she prayed at length to lord Poseidon: "Hear me, Poseidon, holder of the earth, and do not begrudge us the fulfillment of these prayers. Grant glory first of all to Nestor and his sons, and then give to all the rest of the Pylians a gracious reward for this splendid hecatomb. And grant that Telemachus and I may go home again
having accomplished what we came here for, sailing in our swift black ship." So she prayed, and she herself was bringing it all to pass. Then she gave Telemachus the fine two-handled cup, and Odysseus's dear son prayed in the same way. When they had roasted the outer meats and drawn them off the spits, they divided the portions and feasted on the glorious meal. And when they had put away their desire for food and drink, Nestor, the old horseman of Gerenia, opened the talk among them: "Now it is more fitting to ask and question our guests as to who they are, since they have had their fill of eating.
Strangers, who are you? Where do you sail from over the watery paths? Is it on some business, or do you wander at random over the sea, like pirates, who roam risking their lives and bringing harm to strangers in foreign lands?" Thoughtful Telemachus answered him, taking courage -- for Athena herself put courage in his heart, so that he might ask about his absent father and win a good name for himself among men: "Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans, you ask where we are from, and I will tell you.
We have come from Ithaca, under Mount Neion. The business I bring is my own, not the city's, as I will explain: I am seeking word, wide word, of my father, in case I may hear something of noble Odysseus, of the enduring heart, who they say once fought at your side and sacked the city of Troy. Of all the others who fought against the Trojans, we have learned where each one met his grim death, but of him the son of Cronus has made even his death a thing unknown. No one can say for certain where he perished, whether he was brought down on land by hostile men,
or at sea, among the waves of Amphitrite. That is why I have come now to clasp your knees, in hope that you might be willing to tell me of his grim death, whether you saw it with your own eyes or heard the story from another wanderer -- for his mother bore him to more sorrow than most. Do not soften your words out of pity or respect for me, but tell me plainly all you witnessed. I beg you, if ever my father, noble Odysseus, promised you anything, word or deed, and carried it out, in the land of the Trojans where you Achaeans suffered hardship,
remember it now, and tell me the truth without fail." Then Nestor, the old horseman of Gerenia, answered him: "Friend, since you have reminded me of the misery we endured there, we sons of the Achaeans, our fury unrestrained -- all we suffered roaming the misty sea in our ships after plunder, wherever Achilles led, and all we suffered fighting around the great city of lord Priam, where the best of us were killed one after another. There lies warlike Ajax, there lies Achilles,
there lies Patroclus, wise in counsel as a god, and there my own dear son, both strong and blameless, Antilochus, outstanding in running and in battle. And we suffered many other evils besides these -- who among mortal men could tell the whole tale? Not if you stayed and questioned me five years, even six, about all the hardships the noble Achaeans suffered there, could you hear it all; you would grow weary and go back to your own native land first. For nine years we wove evils against them,
working every kind of stratagem, and only with difficulty did the son of Cronus bring it to an end. In that whole time no one dared to match wits with him,
since noble Odysseus far surpassed all in every kind of stratagem -- your father, if indeed you truly are his son. Wonder holds me as I look at you. Your speech, too, is just like his; one would not expect so young a man to speak with such fitness. All the while great Odysseus and I never spoke against each other, neither in the assembly nor in council, but shared one mind, and with foresight and understanding we planned how things might turn out best for the Argives. But when we had sacked the steep city of Priam
and boarded our ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans, then Zeus devised in his heart a grim homecoming for the Argives, since not all of them were sensible or just. So many of them met an evil fate through the deadly wrath of the gray-eyed daughter of a mighty father, who stirred up strife between the two sons of Atreus. The two of them called all the Achaeans to assembly, recklessly, not in proper order, at sunset, and the sons of the Achaeans came heavy with wine.
They spoke their reasons for gathering the army. Then Menelaus urged all the Achaeans to turn their minds to the homeward voyage over the sea's broad back, but this did not please Agamemnon at all, for he wished to hold the army back and offer sacred hecatombs, to appease the terrible wrath of Athena -- fool that he was, not knowing she would not be won over so; the minds of the gods who live forever do not change so quickly. So the two of them stood there exchanging harsh words, and the well-greaved Achaeans sprang up
with a tremendous roar, and their counsel was split two ways. That night we lay down, nursing bitter thoughts against one another, for Zeus was preparing disaster for us. At dawn some of us hauled our ships down into the bright sea and loaded our goods and the deep-girdled women aboard. Half the army held back and stayed there with Agamemnon, shepherd of the people, while the other half of us boarded and rowed away; and our ships sped on very swiftly, for a god smoothed the great sea's swell. When we reached Tenedos we offered sacrifice to the gods,
longing for home, but Zeus had no thought yet of granting us return; cruel god, he stirred up bitter strife a second time. Some turned their curved ships back, following lord Odysseus of the many wiles, wanting to please Agamemnon once again. But I fled onward with the ships that followed me, for I saw that the god was planning disaster. The warlike son of Tydeus fled too, and roused his men. Fair-haired Menelaus caught up with us late, and found us on Lesbos debating the long voyage,
whether to sail above rugged Chios, keeping the island of Psyria on our left, or below Chios, past windy Mimas. We asked the god to show us a sign, and he showed it, bidding us cut across the open sea to Euboea, so that we might escape disaster as quickly as possible. A shrill wind rose to speed us, and our ships ran swiftly over the fish-filled paths, and came in to Geraestus in the night. There we laid many thighs of bulls on Poseidon's altar, having measured the great expanse of sea. It was the fourth day when the companions of Diomedes, breaker of horses,
son of Tydeus, brought their trim ships to anchor at Argos. But I held on for Pylos, and the wind never once died down from the moment the god first sent it blowing. So I came home, dear child, without any word, and know nothing of who among the Achaeans survived and who perished. But whatever I have learned sitting here in my own halls, as is right, you shall hear, and I will hide nothing from you. They say the Myrmidons, famous spearmen, came home safe, led by the shining son of great-hearted Achilles, and Philoctetes too, the glorious son of Poeas, came home safe.
And Idomeneus brought all his companions to Crete, all who survived the war; the sea took none of them from him. As for the son of Atreus, you have heard yourselves, far off as you are, how he came home, and how Aegisthus devised his grim death. But Aegisthus paid a terrible price for it in the end -- so good a thing it is for a man to leave a son behind him when he dies, since that son took vengeance on his father's killer, cunning Aegisthus, who slew his glorious father. And you too, friend -- for I see you are handsome and tall --
be brave, so that even men not yet born will speak well of you." Thoughtful Telemachus answered him: "Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans, yes, he took full vengeance, and the Achaeans will spread his fame far, for men yet to come to hear of it. If only the gods would clothe me in such strength, to take vengeance on the suitors for their grievous outrage, who scheme wicked things against me and insult me without end. But the gods have spun no such fortune for me,
for my father or for me. Now I must simply endure it." Then Nestor, the old horseman of Gerenia, answered him again:
"Friend, since you have reminded me of this and spoken of it, they say that many suitors, for your mother's sake, work evil in your halls against your will. Tell me, do you submit to this willingly, or do the people of the land hate you, following some word from a god? Who knows -- perhaps he may yet come and pay them back for their violence, either alone, or with all the Achaeans behind him. If only gray-eyed Athena chose to love you as she once cared for glorious Odysseus
in the land of the Trojans, where we Achaeans suffered our pains -- for I have never seen gods show such open love as Pallas Athena showed, standing openly at his side -- if she chose to love you like that and care for you in her heart, then many a suitor would forget all about marriage." Thoughtful Telemachus answered him: "Old man, I do not think that word will ever come true. What you have said is too great; astonishment holds me. I could not hope for such a thing myself, not even if the gods willed it."
Then the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, spoke to him again: "Telemachus, what a word has escaped the fence of your teeth!
A god, if willing, could easily save a man even from far away. As for myself, I would rather come home after suffering many hardships and see the day of my return, than come home and be killed at my own hearth, as Agamemnon was killed by the treachery of Aegisthus and his own wife. But death itself, the common death, not even the gods can ward off from a man they love, whenever the deadly fate of grim death lays hold of him." Thoughtful Telemachus answered her: "Mentor, let us speak of this no more, much as it grieves us.
There is no true homecoming left for him now; the immortals have already marked out for him death and black doom. But now I wish to ask Nestor about another matter, since he knows justice and wisdom beyond all other men -- they say he has ruled over three generations of men, so that looking at him he seems like an immortal to me. Nestor, son of Neleus, tell me the truth: how did Agamemnon, wide-ruling son of Atreus, die? Where was Menelaus? What death did cunning Aegisthus devise for him,
since he killed a man far braver than himself? Was Menelaus not in Achaean Argos, but wandering somewhere else among men, so that Aegisthus took courage and killed him?" Then Nestor, the old horseman of Gerenia, answered him: "Then I will tell you the whole truth, my child. You yourself can guess how it would have gone if fair-haired Menelaus, son of Atreus, coming home from Troy, had found Aegisthus alive still in the halls.
Then no one would have heaped up even a burial mound over him once dead; instead dogs and birds would have torn him apart, lying out on the plain far from the city, and none of the Achaean women
would have wept for him -- so monstrous was the deed he plotted. For while we were there toiling through our many labors, he sat at ease in a corner of Argos, land of good pasture, and worked on Agamemnon's wife with endless flattering words. Now noble Clytemnestra had at first refused the shameful act, for she had a good mind; and besides, there was a minstrel with her, whom the son of Atreus, going off to Troy, had charged strictly to guard his wife. But when the doom of the gods bound her to be overcome,
then Aegisthus took that minstrel to a desert island and left him there, a prize and prey for the birds, and led her off, willing as he was willing, to his own house. He burned many thigh-pieces on the gods' holy altars, and hung up many offerings, woven cloth and gold, having brought off a great deed he never expected in his heart to accomplish. "We were sailing together at the same time, coming from Troy, the son of Atreus and I, close friends. But when we reached holy Sunium, the headland of Athens,
there Phoebus Apollo attacked Menelaus's helmsman with his gentle arrows and killed him as he held the steering oar of the running ship in his hands -- Phrontis, son of Onetor, who surpassed all men living in steering a ship whenever the storm winds bore down. So Menelaus was held there, eager as he was to press on, so that he might bury his companion and give him due funeral honors. But when he too, sailing on over the wine-dark sea in his hollow ships, reached the steep headland of Malea,
then far-thundering Zeus devised a hateful path for him, pouring down a blast of shrieking winds, and monstrous waves rose up, like mountains. There he split the fleet in two, and drove some of the ships toward Crete, where the Cydonians dwelt around the streams of the Iardanus. There is a smooth cliff, sheer to the sea, at the edge of Gortyn, in the misty deep, where the South Wind drives a great wave against the western headland, toward Phaestus, and a small rock holds back the great wave. The ships came there, and the men barely escaped destruction,
though the waves smashed the ships themselves against the rocks. But the other five dark-prowed ships were carried on by wind and current to Egypt.
So he made port there, though eager for his journey, so that he might bury his companion and give him the rites owed to the dead. But when he too, sailing on over the wine-dark sea in his hollow ships, reached the steep headland of Malea, then far-seeing Zeus devised a hateful road for him, and poured down a blast of shrieking winds, and the waves rose monstrous, tall as mountains.
There he split the fleet in two, and drove some toward Crete, where the Cydonians lived around the streams of the Iardanus. There is a smooth cliff, sheer to the sea, at the edge of Gortyn, in the misty water, where the South Wind drives a great wave against the western headland, toward Phaestus, and a small rock holds back a great sea. The ships came there, and the crews barely escaped death, but the waves smashed the hulls against the rocks. As for the other five dark-prowed ships, wind and current carried them on to Egypt.
So Menelaus wandered there among people of a foreign tongue, gathering great wealth and gold, while at the very same time Aegisthus was plotting his grim scheme at home. For seven years he ruled over Mycenae rich in gold, after he had killed the son of Atreus, and the people were held under his hand. But in the eighth year, Orestes, sprung from Zeus, came back from Athens to strike him down — divine Orestes came home and struck down his father's killer, cunning Aegisthus, who had murdered his own glorious father. And once he had killed him, he held a funeral feast for the Argives, for his hateful mother and cowardly Aegisthus alike.
On that very day warlike Menelaus arrived, bringing back all the treasure his ships could carry.
"So you too, friend, must not wander far from home too long, leaving your possessions behind and men in your house so insolent that they may divide up everything and devour it, and your journey come to nothing. Still, I urge you and command you to go to Menelaus, for he has only just come home from abroad, from a people so distant that no one would hope in his heart ever to return from there, once the storms had first swept him out onto that vast sea,
onto that great gulf from which not even birds of prey make their way back within the year, so huge and terrible it is. But go now, with your own ship and your companions. Or if you would rather go by land, a chariot and horses stand ready for you, and my own sons are ready too, to be your escorts to holy Lacedaemon, where fair-haired Menelaus lives. Beg him yourself to tell you the plain truth — he will not lie, for he is a man of great good sense."
So he spoke, and the sun went down and darkness came on. Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, spoke among them.
"Old man, all this you have said rightly, as is fitting. But come, cut out the tongues and mix the wine, so that once we have poured libations to Poseidon and the other immortals, we may turn our thoughts to sleep, for it is the hour. Already the light has gone down into darkness, and it is not right to sit long at a feast of the gods, but to go home."
So spoke the daughter of Zeus, and they listened to her voice. Then heralds poured water over their hands, and young men filled the mixing bowls to the brim with drink, and served it round to all, pouring first a portion into every cup. They cast the tongues into the fire and rose to pour libations over them. And when they had poured and drunk as much as their hearts desired, then Athena and godlike Telemachus both were eager to go back together to the hollow ship.
But Nestor held them back, taking hold of them with these words: "Zeus forbid this, and the other immortal gods as well, that you should go from my house to your swift ship as though from some man with no cloaks at all, some poor wretch who has no blankets or coverlets in his house for himself or his guests to sleep soft.
"No, I myself have plenty of fine cloaks and coverlets. Never will the dear son of this man Odysseus lie down on the deck-planks of a ship, not while I am alive, and after me my sons remain in my halls to welcome whatever guest comes to my door."
Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athena, answered him: "You have spoken well in this, dear old man, and it is right that Telemachus should yield to you, since that is far better. Let him now go with you, so that he may sleep in your halls, but I will go back to the black ship, to encourage the crew and tell them all that is needed.
"For I alone among them claim to be the elder; the rest are younger men who follow out of friendship, all of an age with great-hearted Telemachus. There I will lie down beside the hollow black ship tonight, but at dawn I will go among the great-hearted Cauconians, where a debt is owed me, no small or recent one. As for this young man, since he has come to your house, send him on with your son and chariot, and give him horses, the swiftest you have for running and the strongest in power."
So having spoken, grey-eyed Athena went away, in the form of a sea-eagle, and wonder seized all who watched. The old man marveled, seeing it with his own eyes, and he took Telemachus by the hand and spoke to him, calling him by name.
"Friend, I do not think you will turn out cowardly or weak, if at your young age gods like this already walk beside you as guides. For this was no other than the daughter of Zeus, the glorious Trito-born, she who honored your noble father too among the Argives. But be gracious, my queen, and grant me good fame,
to myself and my children and my honored wife; and in return I will sacrifice to you a yearling heifer, broad of brow, unbroken, one that no man has yet led under the yoke — her I will offer to you, gilding her horns with gold."
So he spoke in prayer, and Pallas Athena heard him. Then the Gerenian horseman Nestor led the way for them, his sons and his sons-in-law, back to his beautiful halls. And when they reached the famous house of that lord, they sat down in order on couches and chairs, and the old man, as they took their seats, mixed for them a bowl
of sweet wine, which in the eleventh year the housekeeper had opened, loosing its seal for the first time. From this the old man mixed the bowl, and poured out much in prayer to Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis. And when they had poured and drunk as much as their hearts desired, the others went off, each to his own house, to take their rest, but Telemachus, dear son of godlike Odysseus, was given a bed there by the Gerenian horseman Nestor, on a corded bedstead beneath the echoing gallery, and beside him lay Peisistratus of the strong ash spear, marshal of men,
the one of his sons still unwed who remained in the halls. Nestor himself slept in the innermost chamber of his high house, and his wife the lady of the house prepared his bed and rest beside him. When early Dawn appeared with her rose-red fingers, the Gerenian horseman Nestor rose from his bed and went out and sat down on the polished stones that stood before his lofty doors, white stones, gleaming with oil, on which before him Neleus used to sit, a counselor equal to the gods; but he had already gone down to Hades, overcome by fate,
and now Gerenian Nestor sat there in his place, guardian of the Achaeans, holding his staff. Around him his sons gathered close, coming from their rooms — Echephron and Stratius, Perseus and Aretus, and godlike Thrasymedes. Then, sixth among them, came the hero Peisistratus, and they brought godlike Telemachus and set him down beside them. And Gerenian Nestor, the horseman, began to speak among them: "Quickly now, dear children, fulfill my wish, so that I may first of all the gods win the favor of Athena, who came to me plainly, in person, at the rich feast of the god.
"Come, let one of you go to the plain for a heifer, so that she may come as quickly as possible, driven by the herdsman who tends the cattle; let another go to great-hearted Telemachus's black ship and bring back all his crew, leaving only two behind; and let another summon the goldsmith Laerces here, so that he may gild the heifer's horns with gold. The rest of you stay here together, and tell the servants within to prepare a feast in the famous hall, and to bring seats, and wood, and clear water."
So he spoke, and they all busied themselves at once. The heifer came in from the plain, and the crew of great-hearted Telemachus came from the swift, trim ship, and the smith came bringing in his hands the bronze tools of his craft, the instruments of his art — anvil, hammer, and well-made tongs, with which he worked gold. And Athena came too, to receive the sacrifice. The old horseman Nestor gave him gold, and the smith worked it skillfully around the heifer's horns, so that the goddess might delight to see the offering. Stratius and godlike Echephron led the heifer in by the horns.
Aretus came from the chamber bringing water for their hands in a flowered basin, and in his other hand he carried barley grains in a basket; battle-hardy Thrasymedes stood near, holding a sharp axe in his hand, ready to strike the heifer down. Perseus held the bowl to catch the blood. Then the old horseman Nestor began the rite with the water and the barley, and prayed long to Athena, casting hairs from the heifer's head into the fire as the first offering. And when they had prayed and cast the barley grains forward, at once Nestor's proud son Thrasymedes stepped close and struck; the axe cut through the tendons of the neck and loosed the heifer's strength. And the women raised the ritual cry —
the daughters and daughters-in-law and the honored wife of Nestor, Eurydice, eldest of the daughters of Clymenus. Then the men lifted the heifer from the wide-wayed earth and held her fast, while Peisistratus, marshal of men, cut her throat. And when the dark blood had drained from her and life had left her bones, they quickly cut her apart, and at once sliced out the thigh-pieces, all according to custom, and wrapped them round in fat, folding it double, and laid raw flesh upon them. The old man burned these over split wood, and poured gleaming wine over them, while the young men beside him held the five-pronged forks in their hands.
When the thigh-pieces were burned and they had tasted the inner parts, they cut up the rest into small pieces and skewered them, and roasted them, holding the pointed spits in their hands. Meanwhile fair Polycaste, Nestor's youngest daughter, born of Neleus's line, bathed Telemachus. And when she had bathed him and rubbed him with rich olive oil, she threw a fine cloak and tunic around him, and he stepped out of the bath looking like a god in build. He went and sat down beside Nestor, shepherd of his people. And when the others had roasted the choice meat and drawn it from the spits,
they sat down and feasted, and noble men rose to pour wine into golden cups. But when they had put away their desire for food and drink, Gerenian Nestor the horseman began to speak among them: "My sons, come, yoke fine-maned horses to a chariot for Telemachus, so that he may press on with his journey." So he spoke, and they listened closely and obeyed, and quickly yoked swift horses to the chariot. The housekeeper stored bread and wine aboard, and meat too, such food as kings, cherished by Zeus, eat.
Then Telemachus climbed up into the splendid chariot, and beside him Peisistratus, son of Nestor, marshal of men, mounted the car and took the reins in his hands, and whipped the horses on to run, and they flew onward eagerly toward the plain, leaving behind the steep citadel of Pylos. All day long they shook the yoke that held them both. The sun went down and all the roads grew shadowed, and they came to Pherae, to the house of Diocles, son of Ortilochus, whom the river Alpheus had fathered. There they spent the night, and he set before them the gifts owed to guests.
When early Dawn appeared with her rose-red fingers, they yoked the horses once more and climbed up into the painted chariot, and drove out through the gateway and the echoing gallery. He whipped the horses on to run, and they flew onward eagerly. They came to the wheat-bearing plain, and from there they finished the journey swiftly, so fast did the swift horses carry them onward. The sun went down and all the roads grew shadowed.