Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English; Homer -- Translations into English; Odysseus, King of Ithaca (Mythological character)
Therewith he led the way, and Pallas Athene followed. And when they
were now within the lofty house, he set her spear that he bore against
a tall pillar, within the polished spear-stand, where stood many spears
besides, even those of Odysseus of the hardy heart; and he led the
goddess and seated her on a goodly carven chair, and spread a linen
cloth thereunder, and beneath was a footstool for the feet. For himself
he placed an inlaid seat hard by, apart from the company of the wooers,
lest the stranger should be disquieted by the noise and should have a
loathing for the meal, being come among overweening men, and also that
he might ask him about his father that was gone from his home.
Then a handmaid bare water for the washing of hands in a goodly golden
ewer, and poured it forth over a silver basin to wash withal, and drew
to their side a polished table. And a grave dame bare wheaten bread and
set it by them, and laid on the board many dainties, giving freely of
such things as she had by her. And a carver lifted and placed by them
platters of divers kinds of flesh, and nigh them he set golden bowls,
and a henchman walked to and fro pouring out to them the wine.
Then in came the lordly wooers; and they sat them down in rows on
chairs, and on high seats, and henchmen poured water on their hands,
and maidservants piled wheaten bread by them in baskets, and pages
crowned the bowls with drink; and they stretched forth their hands upon
the good cheer spread before them. Now when the wooers had put from
them the desire of meat and drink, they minded them of other things,
even of the song and dance: for these are the crown of the feast. And a
henchman placed a beauteous lyre in the hands of Phemius, who was
minstrel to the wooers despite his will. Yea and as he touched the lyre
he lifted up his voice in sweet songs.[1]
[1] Or, according to the ordinary interpretation of ἀνεβάλλετο: So he
touched the chords in prelude to his sweet singing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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