Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English; Homer -- Translations into English; Odysseus, King of Ithaca (Mythological character)
Then wise Telemachus answered him, and said: “Menelaus, son of Atreus,
fosterling of Zeus, leader of the host, I have come if perchance thou
mayest tell me some tidings of my father. My dwelling is being devoured
and my fat lands are ruined, and of unfriendly men my house is
full,—who slaughter continually my thronging flocks, and my kine with
trailing feet and shambling gait,—none other than the wooers of my
mother, despiteful out of measure. So now am I come hither to thy
knees, if haply thou art willing to tell me of his pitiful death, as
one that saw it perchance with thine own eyes, or heard the story from
some other wanderer; for his mother bare him to exceeding sorrow. And
speak me no soft words in ruth or pity, but tell me plainly how thou
didst get sight of him. Ah, I pray thee, if ever at all my father, good
Odysseus, made promise to thee of word or work and fulfilled the same
in the land of the Trojans, where ye Achaeans suffered affliction,
these things, I pray thee, now remember and tell me truth.”
Then in heavy displeasure spake to him Menelaus of the fair hair: “Out
upon them, for truly in the bed of a brave-hearted man were they minded
to lie, very cravens as they are! Even as when a hind hath couched her
newborn fawns unweaned in a strong lion’s lair, and searcheth out the
mountain knees and grassy hollows, seeking pasture, and afterward the
lion cometh back to his bed, and sendeth forth unsightly death upon
that pair, even so shall Odysseus send forth unsightly death upon the
wooers. Would to our father Zeus and Athene and Apollo, would that in
such might as when of old in stablished Lesbos he rose up and wrestled
a match with Philomeleides and threw him mightily, and all the Achaeans
rejoiced; would that in such strength Odysseus might consort with the
wooers: then should they all have swift fate, and bitter wedlock! But
for that whereof thou askest and entreatest me, be sure I will not
swerve from the truth in aught that I say, nor deceive thee; but of all
that the ancient one of the sea, whose speech is sooth, declared to me,
not a word will I hide or keep from thee.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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