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 Euryalus reviled him outright and said, “I gather, then, that you
are unskilled in any of the many sports that men generally delight in.
I suppose you are one of those grasping traders that go about in ships
as captains or merchants, and who think of nothing but of their outward
freights and homeward cargoes. There does not seem to be much of the
athlete about you.”
“For shame, Sir,” answered Ulysses, fiercely, “you are an insolent
fellow—so true is it that the gods do not grace all men alike in
speech, person, and understanding. One man may be of weak presence, but
heaven has adorned this with such a good conversation that he charms
every one who sees him; his honeyed moderation carries his hearers with
him so that he is leader in all assemblies of his fellows, and wherever
he goes he is looked up to. Another may be as handsome as a god, but
his good looks are not crowned with discretion. This is your case. No
god could make a finer looking fellow than you are, but you are a fool.
Your ill-judged remarks have made me exceedingly angry, and you are
quite mistaken, for I excel in a great many athletic exercises; indeed,
so long as I had youth and strength, I was among the first athletes of
the age. Now, however, I am worn out by labour and sorrow, for I have
gone through much both on the field of battle and by the waves of the
weary sea; still, in spite of all this I will compete, for your taunts
have stung me to the quick.”
So he hurried up without even taking his cloak off, and seized a disc,
larger, more massive and much heavier than those used by the Phaeacians
when disc-throwing among themselves.68 Then, swinging it back, he threw
it from his brawny hand, and it made a humming sound in the air as he
did so. The Phaeacians quailed beneath the rushing of its flight as it
sped gracefully from his hand, and flew beyond any mark that had been
made yet. Minerva, in the form of a man, came and marked the place
where it had fallen. “A blind man, Sir,” said she, “could easily tell
your mark by groping for it—it is so far ahead of any other. You may
make your mind easy about this contest, for no Phaeacian can come near
to such a throw as yours.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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