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)
Then Penelope answered, “Stranger, heaven robbed me of all 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 be both more respected and should 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. The chiefs from all our
islands—Dulichium, Same, and Zacynthus, as also from Ithaca itself, are
wooing me against my will and are wasting my estate. I can therefore
show no attention to strangers, nor suppliants, nor to people who say
that they are skilled artisans, but am all the time broken-hearted
about Ulysses. They want me to marry again at once, and I have to
invent stratagems in order to deceive them. In the first place heaven
put it in my mind to set up a great tambour-frame in my room, and to
begin working upon an enormous piece of fine needlework. Then I said to
them, ‘Sweethearts, Ulysses is indeed dead, still, do not press me to
marry again immediately; wait—for I would not have my skill in
needlework perish unrecorded—till I have finished making a pall for the
hero Laertes, to be ready against the time when death shall take him.
He is very rich, and the women of the place will talk if he is laid out
without a pall.’ This was what I said, and they assented; whereon I
used to keep working at my great web all day long, but at night I would
unpick the stitches again by torch light. I fooled them in this way for
three years without their finding it out, but as time wore on and I was
now in my fourth year, in the waning of moons, and many days had been
accomplished, those good for nothing hussies my maids betrayed me to
the suitors, who broke in upon me and caught me; they were very angry
with me, so I was forced to finish my work whether I would or no. And
now I do not see how I can find any further shift for getting out of
this marriage. My parents are putting great pressure upon me, and my
son chafes at the ravages the suitors are making upon his estate, for
he is now old enough to understand all about it and is perfectly able
to look after his own affairs, for heaven has blessed him with an
excellent disposition. Still, notwithstanding all this, tell me who you
are and where you come from—for you must have had father and mother of
some sort; you cannot be the son of an oak or of a rock.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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