Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English; Homer -- Translations into English; Odysseus, King of Ithaca (Mythological character)
Then wise Penelope answered him: “Stranger, verily dreams are hard, and
hard to be discerned; nor are all things therein fulfilled for men.
Twain are the gates of shadowy dreams, the one is fashioned of horn and
one of ivory. Such dreams as pass through the portals of sawn ivory are
deceitful, and bear tidings that are unfulfilled. But the dreams that
come forth through the gates of polished horn bring a true issue,
whosoever of mortals beholds them. Yet methinks my strange dream came
not thence; of a truth that would be most welcome to me and to my son.
But another thing will I tell thee, and do thou ponder it in thy heart.
Lo, even now draws nigh the morn of evil name, that is to sever me from
the house of Odysseus, for now I am about to ordain for a trial those
axes that he would set up in a row in his halls, like stays of oak in
ship-building, twelve in all, and he would stand far apart and shoot
his arrow through them all. And now I will offer this contest to the
wooers; whoso shall most easily string the bow in his hands, and shoot
through all twelve axes, with him will I go and forsake this house,
this house of my wedlock, so fair and filled with all livelihood, which
methinks I shall yet remember, aye, in a dream.”
Then Odysseus of many counsels answered her and said: “Wife revered of
Odysseus son of Laertes, no longer delay this contest in thy halls;
for, lo, Odysseus of many counsels will be here, before these men, for
all their handling of this polished bow, shall have strung it, and shot
the arrow through the iron.”
Then the wise Penelope answered him: “Stranger, if only thou wert
willing still to sit beside me in the halls and to delight me, not upon
my eyelids would sleep be shed. But men may in no wise abide sleepless
ever, for the immortals have made a time for all things for mortals on
the grain-giving earth. Howbeit I will go aloft to my upper chamber,
and lay me on my bed, the place of my groanings, that is ever watered
by my tears, since the day that Odysseus went to see that evil Ilios,
never to be named. There will I lay me down, but do thou lie in this
house; either strew thee somewhat on the floor, or let them lay bedding
for thee.”
Therewith she ascended to her shining upper chamber, not alone, for
with her likewise went her handmaids. So she went aloft to her upper
chamber with the women her handmaids, and there was bewailing Odysseus,
her dear lord, till grey-eyed Athene cast sweet sleep upon her eyelids.
BOOK XX.
Pallas and Odysseus consult of the killing of the wooers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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