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)
This was what they said, but they did not know what it was that had
been happening. The upper servant Eurynome washed and anointed Ulysses
in his own house and gave him a shirt and cloak, while Minerva made him
look taller and stronger than before; she also made the hair grow thick
on the top of his head, and flow down in curls like hyacinth blossoms;
she glorified him about the head and shoulders just as a skilful
workman who has studied art of all kinds under Vulcan or Minerva—and
his work is full of beauty—enriches a piece of silver plate by gilding
it. He came from the bath looking like one of the immortals, and sat
down opposite his wife on the seat he had left. “My dear,” said he,
“heaven has endowed you with a heart more unyielding than woman ever
yet had. No other woman could bear to keep away from her husband when
he had come back to her after twenty years of absence, and after having
gone through so much. But come, nurse, get a bed ready for me; I will
sleep alone, for this woman has a heart as hard as iron.”
“My dear,” answered Penelope, “I have no wish to set myself up, nor to
depreciate you; but I am not struck by your appearance, for I very well
remember what kind of a man you were when you set sail from Ithaca.
Nevertheless, Euryclea, take his bed outside the bed chamber that he
himself built. Bring the bed outside this room, and put bedding upon it
with fleeces, good coverlets, and blankets.”
She said this to try him, but Ulysses was very angry and said, “Wife, I
am much displeased at what you have just been saying. Who has been
taking my bed from the place in which I left it? He must have found it
a hard task, no matter how skilled a workman he was, unless some god
came and helped him to shift it. There is no man living, however strong
and in his prime, who could move it from its place, for it is a
marvellous curiosity which I made with my very own hands. There was a
young olive growing within the precincts of the house, in full vigour,
and about as thick as a bearing-post. I built my room round this with
strong walls of stone and a roof to cover them, and I made the doors
strong and well-fitting. Then I cut off the top boughs of the olive
tree and left the stump standing. This I dressed roughly from the root
upwards and then worked with carpenter’s tools well and skilfully,
straightening my work by drawing a line on the wood, and making it into
a bed-prop. I then bored a hole down the middle, and made it the
centre-post of my bed, at which I worked till I had finished it,
inlaying it with gold and silver; after this I stretched a hide of
crimson leather from one side of it to the other. So you see I know all
about it, and I desire to learn whether it is still there, or whether
any one has been removing it by cutting down the olive tree at its
roots.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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