The Odyssey / Book XX: The Last Banquet of the Suitors

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Book XX: The Last Banquet of the Suitors

Disorderly conduct of the serving-women - Prayer of Ulysses for a favorable omen - Its fulfillment - Preparations for a feast of the suitors in the palace - The feast - Ulysses insulted by Ctesippus, who is reproved by Telemachus - Strange prodigies observed by Theoclymenus, who leaves the hall.

The noble chief, Ulysses, in the porch

Lay down to rest. An undressed bullock's hide

Was under him, and over that the skins

Of sheep, which for the daily sacrifice

The Achaians slew. Eurynomรจ had spread

A cloak above him. There he lay awake,

And meditated how he yet should smite

The suitors down. Meantime, with cries of mirth

And laughter, came the women forth to seek

The suitors' arms. Ulysses, inly moved

With anger, pondered whether he should rise

And put them all to death, or give their shame

A respite for another night, the last.

His heart raged in his bosom. As a hound

Growls, walking round her whelps, when she beholds

A stranger, and is eager for the attack,

So growled his heart within him, and so fierce

Was his impatience with that shameless crew.

He smote his breast, and thus he chid his heart:

"Endure it, heart! thou didst bear worse than this.

When the grim Cyclops of resistless strength

Devoured thy brave companions, thou couldst still

Endure, till thou by stratagem didst leave

The cave in which it seemed that thou must die."

Thus he rebuked his heart, and, growing calm,

His heart submitted; but the hero tossed

From side to side. As when one turns and turns

The stomach of a bullock filled with fat

And blood before a fiercely blazing fire

And wishes it were done, so did the chief

Shift oft from side to side, while pondering how

To lay a strong hand on the multitude

Of shameless suitors - he but one, and they

So many. Meantime Pallas, sliding down

From heaven, in form a woman, came, and there

Beside his bed stood over him, and spake:

"Why, most unhappy of the sons of men,

Art thou still sleepless? This is thine abode,

And here thou hast thy consort and a son

Whom any man might covet for his own."

Ulysses, the sagacious, answered thus:

"Truly, O goddess, all that thou hast said

Is rightly spoken. This perplexes me -

How to lay hands upon these shameless men,

When I am only one, and they a throng

That fill the palace. Yet another thought,

And mightier still - if, by thy aid and Jove's,

I slay the suitors, how shall I myself

Be safe thereafter? Think, I pray, of this."

And thus in turn the blue-eyed Pallas said:

"O faint of spirit! in an humbler friend

Than I am, in a friend of mortal birth

And less farseeing, one might put his trust;

But I am born a goddess, and protect

Thy life in every danger. Let me say,

And plainly say, if fifty armed bands

Of men should gather round us, eager all

To take thy life, thou mightest drive away,

Unharmed by them, their herds and pampered flocks.

But give thyself to sleep. To wake and watch

All night is most unwholesome. Thou shalt find

A happy issue from thy troubles yet."

She spake, and, shedding slumber on his lids,

Upward the glorious goddess took her way

Back to Olympus, when she saw that sleep

Had seized him, making him forget all care

And slackening every limb. His faithful wife

Was still awake, and sat upright and wept

On her soft couch, and after many tears

The glorious lady prayed to Dian thus:

"Goddess august! Diana, child of Jove!

I would that thou wouldst send into my heart

A shaft to take my life, or that a storm

Would seize and hurl me through the paths of air,

And cast me into ocean's restless streams,

As once a storm, descending, swept away

The daughters born to Pandarus. The gods

Had slain their parents, and they dwelt alone

As orphans in their palace, nourished there

By blessed Venus with the curds of milk,

And honey, and sweet wine, while Juno gave

Beauty and wit beyond all womankind,

And chaste Diana dignity of form,

And Pallas every art that graces life.

Then, as the blessed Venus went to ask

For them, of Jove the Thunderer, on the heights