The Odyssey: Rendered into English prose for the use of those who cannot read the originalHomer
General
The Odyssey: Rendered into English prose for the use of those who cannot read the original
Homer
Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English; Homer -- Translations into English; Odysseus, King of Ithaca (Mythological character)
“I am not surprised, my dear mother, at your displeasure,” replied
Telemachus, “I understand all about it and know when things are not as
they should be, which I could not do when I was younger; I cannot,
however, behave with perfect propriety at all times. First one and then
another of these wicked people here keeps driving me out of my mind,
and I have no one to stand by me. After all, however, this fight
between Irus and the stranger did not turn out as the suitors meant it
to do, for the stranger got the best of it. I wish Father Jove,
Minerva, and Apollo would break the neck of every one of these wooers
of yours, some inside the house and some out; and I wish they might all
be as limp as Irus is over yonder in the gate of the outer court. See
how he nods his head like a drunken man; he has had such a thrashing
that he cannot stand on his feet nor get back to his home, wherever
that may be, for he has no strength left in him.”
Thus did they converse. Eurymachus then came up and said, “Queen
Penelope, daughter of Icarius, if all the Achaeans in Iasian Argos
could see you at this moment, you would have still more suitors in your
house by tomorrow morning, for you are the most admirable woman in the
whole world both as regards personal beauty and strength of
understanding.”
To this Penelope replied, “Eurymachus, heaven robbed me of all my
beauty whether of face or figure when the Argives set sail for Troy and
my dear husband with them. If he were to return and look after my
affairs, I should both be more respected and show a better presence to
the world. As it is, I am oppressed with care, and with the afflictions
which heaven has seen fit to heap upon me. My husband foresaw it all,
and when he was leaving home he took my right wrist in his hand—‘Wife,’
he said, ‘we shall not all of us come safe home from Troy, for the
Trojans fight well both with bow and spear. They are excellent also at
fighting from chariots, and nothing decides the issue of a fight sooner
than this. I know not, therefore, whether heaven will send me back to
you, or whether I may not fall over there at Troy. In the meantime do
you look after things here. Take care of my father and mother as at
present, and even more so during my absence, but when you see our son
growing a beard, then marry whom you will, and leave this your present
home.’ This is what he said and now it is all coming true. A night will
come when I shall have to yield myself to a marriage which I detest,
for Jove has taken from me all hope of happiness. This further grief,
moreover, cuts me to the very heart. You suitors are not wooing me
after the custom of my country. When men are courting a woman who they
think will be a good wife to them and who is of noble birth, and when
they are each trying to win her for himself, they usually bring oxen
and sheep to feast the friends of the lady, and they make her
magnificent presents, instead of eating up other people’s property
without paying for it.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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