Odyssey, Book 4: Menelaus and Helen
Homer · Greek original · new English translation and commentary by Text Atlas
Overview
Book 4 sets Telemachus inside Menelaus and Helen's brilliant but grief-marked household, where recognition, hospitality, medicine, memory, and competing stories disclose Odysseus indirectly before Proteus reports him alive. The opening double wedding converts Trojan promises and a divided family history into present household ceremony. Guest reception precedes identity, yet the palace's wealth immediately opens onto loss: Menelaus measures display against dead companions, Helen recognizes Telemachus by resemblance, and Peisistratus confirms him through disciplined speech. Helen's drug controls grief while her tale and Menelaus' answering tale offer sharply different memories of her place at Troy; neither speaker cancels the other. At dawn Telemachus asks for evidence, and Menelaus embeds Eidothea's instructions and Proteus' revelations within his own return story. The sea-god's transformations must be physically endured before his report distinguishes Ajax's boast, Agamemnon's ambushed homecoming, Odysseus' forced detention, and Menelaus' divinely assigned future. Gift exchange then adapts to Ithaca's terrain. The narrative cuts back to Ithaca, where news of Telemachus' successful agency produces the suitors' murder plot, Medon's warning, Penelope's prayer, and Athena's deliberately limited consolation. The book closes with knowledge unevenly distributed: Telemachus has learned his father lives, Penelope knows her son is threatened but receives assurance of his return, and the suitors wait at Asteris without knowing the divine protection that surrounds their target.
Narrative arc
- Telemachus reaches Sparta during the double wedding in Menelaus' house
- hospitality, palace display, and grief precede recognition of Odysseus' son
- Helen regulates mourning and Helen and Menelaus exchange competing Troy memories
- Telemachus requests truthful evidence about Odysseus
- Menelaus recounts confinement on Pharos and Eidothea's instructions
- Proteus is bound through transformations and reports the Achaean returns
- Odysseus is disclosed alive but forcibly detained with Calypso
- host and guest adapt the departure gift to Ithaca
- the scene returns to Ithaca as the suitors plan an ambush
- Medon warns Penelope, who moves from collapse through prayer to a bounded dream-consolation
- the suitors take position at Asteris while Book 4 withholds their intended victim's response
Central themes
- hospitality as reception, narrative exchange, and adaptable gift
- wealth shadowed by war loss and delayed return
- recognition through body, tears, speech, and inherited character
- grief managed by ritual, counsel, medicine, sleep, and story
- competing memories and speaker-bound responsibility
- truth transmitted through nested report and divine prophecy
- mortal endurance under divine obstruction and assistance
- household continuity threatened by absence and ambush
- limited consolation rather than complete disclosure
The double wedding feast in Sparta 4.1–19
1οἱ δʼ ἷξον κοίλην Λακεδαίμονα κητώεσσαν,
πρὸς δʼ ἄρα δώματʼ ἔλων Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.
τὸν δʼ εὗρον δαινύντα γάμον πολλοῖσιν ἔτῃσιν
υἱέος ἠδὲ θυγατρὸς ἀμύμονος ᾧ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.
5τὴν μὲν Ἀχιλλῆος ῥηξήνορος υἱέι πέμπεν·
ἐν Τροίῃ γὰρ πρῶτον ὑπέσχετο καὶ κατένευσε
δωσέμεναι, τοῖσιν δὲ θεοὶ γάμον ἐξετέλειον.
τὴν ἄρʼ ὅ γʼ ἔνθʼ ἵπποισι καὶ ἅρμασι πέμπε νέεσθαι
Μυρμιδόνων προτὶ ἄστυ περικλυτόν, οἷσιν ἄνασσεν.
10υἱέι δὲ Σπάρτηθεν Ἀλέκτορος ἤγετο κούρην,
ὅς οἱ τηλύγετος γένετο κρατερὸς Μεγαπένθης
ἐκ δούλης· Ἑλένῃ δὲ θεοὶ γόνον οὐκέτʼ ἔφαινον,
ἐπεὶ δὴ τὸ πρῶτον ἐγείνατο παῖδʼ ἐρατεινήν,
Ἑρμιόνην, ἣ εἶδος ἔχε χρυσέης Ἀφροδίτης.
15ὣς οἱ μὲν δαίνυντο καθʼ ὑψερεφὲς μέγα δῶμα
γείτονες ἠδὲ ἔται Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο,
τερπόμενοι· μετὰ δέ σφιν ἐμέλπετο θεῖος ἀοιδὸς
φορμίζων, δοιὼ δὲ κυβιστητῆρε κατʼ αὐτούς,
μολπῆς ἐξάρχοντος, ἐδίνευον κατὰ μέσσους.
1They reached hollow Lacedaemon, folded among ravines,
and drove up to the house of glorious Menelaus.
They found him holding a wedding feast for many kinsmen
within his house, for his blameless son and daughter.
5His daughter he was sending to the son of Achilles, breaker of ranks;
at Troy he had first promised and consented
to give her, and now the gods were bringing the marriage to fulfillment.
So Menelaus sent her away there with horses and chariots,
to the famous city of the Myrmidons, over whom the bridegroom ruled.
10For his son he brought from Sparta the daughter of Alector,
for mighty Megapenthes was his late-born son,
born from an enslaved woman. The gods granted Helen no more children
after she had first borne her lovely daughter,
Hermione, who had the beauty of golden Aphrodite.
15So they feasted throughout the high-roofed great hall,
neighbors and kinsmen of glorious Menelaus,
taking delight. Among them a divine singer performed,
playing the lyre, while two tumblers among them,
as the song began, whirled through their midst.
Commentary
Telemachus and Peisistratus reach Menelaus while his household celebrates two marriages at once. Hermione is sent to Achilles' son under a promise made at Troy, while Megapenthes, Menelaus' son by an enslaved woman, marries Alector's daughter. Song and tumbling fill a ceremony whose family arrangement already carries the consequences of war, divine completion, and unequal maternal status.
4.3–14 The paired weddings turn the aftermath of Troy into present household arrangement before Telemachus is admitted. Menelaus celebrates both marriages in one house, but the narrator distinguishes them through direction and genealogy: Hermione is sent to Achilles' son among the Myrmidons in fulfillment of the promise at Troy, while Alector's daughter is brought from Sparta for Megapenthes. Megapenthes is then identified as Menelaus' late-born son by an enslaved woman, set against Hermione as Helen's only child.
4.11–14 τηλύγετος marks Megapenthes as a specially timed or cherished late child, while ἐκ δούλης states his maternal status without naming his mother. The adjective is best kept close to late birth here because Helen's childbearing has already ended after Hermione. The compressed contrast distinguishes the enslaved mother from Helen without authorizing assumptions about her identity, consent, or standing beyond the noun used by the narrator.
4.15–19 Feasting, lyre song, and two whirling performers establish the hall as ceremonially active rather than merely wealthy. The familiar feast-and-singer diction is expanded by paired tumblers moving through the center as song begins. Their motion anticipates a book repeatedly concerned with controlled performance—stories, imitated voices, disguises, and prophetic transformations—without making the opening entertainment an explicit allegory.
The strangers arrive and Eteoneus admits them 4.20–46
20τὼ δʼ αὖτʼ ἐν προθύροισι δόμων αὐτώ τε καὶ ἵππω,
Τηλέμαχός θʼ ἥρως καὶ Νέστορος ἀγλαὸς υἱός,
στῆσαν· ὁ δὲ προμολὼν ἴδετο κρείων Ἐτεωνεύς,
ὀτρηρὸς θεράπων Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο,
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἀγγελέων διὰ δώματα ποιμένι λαῶν,
25ἀγχοῦ δʼ ἱστάμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ξείνω δή τινε τώδε, διοτρεφὲς ὦ Μενέλαε,
ἄνδρε δύω, γενεῇ δὲ Διὸς μεγάλοιο ἔικτον.
ἀλλʼ εἴπʼ, ἤ σφωιν καταλύσομεν ὠκέας ἵππους,
ἦ ἄλλον πέμπωμεν ἱκανέμεν, ὅς κε φιλήσῃ.
30τὸν δὲ μέγʼ ὀχθήσας προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
οὐ μὲν νήπιος ἦσθα, Βοηθοΐδη Ἐτεωνεῦ,
τὸ πρίν· ἀτὰρ μὲν νῦν γε πάϊς ὣς νήπια βάζεις.
ἦ μὲν δὴ νῶι ξεινήια πολλὰ φαγόντε
ἄλλων ἀνθρώπων δεῦρʼ ἱκόμεθʼ, αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς
35ἐξοπίσω περ παύσῃ ὀιζύος. ἀλλὰ λύʼ ἵππους
ξείνων, ἐς δʼ αὐτοὺς προτέρω ἄγε θοινηθῆναι.
ὣς φάθʼ, ὁ δὲ μεγάροιο διέσσυτο, κέκλετο δʼ ἄλλους
ὀτρηροὺς θεράποντας ἅμα σπέσθαι ἑοῖ αὐτῷ.
οἱ δʼ ἵππους μὲν λῦσαν ὑπὸ ζυγοῦ ἱδρώοντας,
40καὶ τοὺς μὲν κατέδησαν ἐφʼ ἱππείῃσι κάπῃσι,
πὰρ δʼ ἔβαλον ζειάς, ἀνὰ δὲ κρῖ λευκὸν ἔμιξαν,
ἅρματα δʼ ἔκλιναν πρὸς ἐνώπια παμφανόωντα,
αὐτοὺς δʼ εἰσῆγον θεῖον δόμον. οἱ δὲ ἰδόντες
θαύμαζον κατὰ δῶμα διοτρεφέος βασιλῆος·
45ὥς τε γὰρ ἠελίου αἴγλη πέλεν ἠὲ σελήνης
δῶμα καθʼ ὑψερεφὲς Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.
20The two travelers halted in the gateway of the house,
heroic Telemachus and Nestor's splendid son, with their horses.
Lord Eteoneus came forward and saw them,
the diligent attendant of glorious Menelaus.
He went through the house to bring word to the shepherd of the people,
25stood close beside him, and spoke these winged words:
“Two strangers are here, Zeus-nurtured Menelaus,
two men who look like descendants of great Zeus.
Tell me: should we unharness their swift horses,
or send them on to someone else who will welcome them?”
30Deeply indignant, fair-haired Menelaus answered him:
“You were never a fool before, Eteoneus, son of Boethous,
but now you speak foolishly, like a child.
The two of us came home only after eating many guest-meals
among other peoples—if Zeus will even now
35put an end to our misery. Unharness the strangers' horses
and lead the men inside to share our feast.”
So he spoke, and Eteoneus hurried through the hall, calling
the other diligent attendants to follow him.
They freed the sweating horses from beneath the yoke,
40tethered them at the horses' mangers,
threw down spelt, and mixed white barley with it.
They leaned the chariot against the gleaming entrance wall
and led the men into the splendid house. When they saw it,
they marveled throughout the palace of the Zeus-nurtured king:
45for like the radiance of the sun or moon
was the high-roofed house of glorious Menelaus.
Commentary
The travelers stop at the gateway, and Eteoneus asks whether to receive them or send them elsewhere. Menelaus rebukes the question by recalling the guest-meals that sustained his own return with Helen, then orders horses cared for and strangers brought to the feast. The guests enter through coordinated household labor and meet a palace whose radiance exceeds their immediate comprehension.
4.20–36 Menelaus grounds immediate guest reception in the foreign hospitality that sustained his own delayed return. Eteoneus asks before acting, but Menelaus treats the possibility of sending the strangers away as childish folly. His order moves directly from remembered guest-meals to horse care and admission, making reciprocity a practiced household obligation rather than an abstract maxim.
4.33–36 The dual νῶ and the dual participle present Menelaus and Helen together as recipients of many foreign guest-meals. Menelaus' first-person dual reaches beyond himself to the couple whose return followed prolonged wandering. This grammatical pairing matters because the hospitality now offered in their house is grounded in shared dependence abroad, even though later memories reveal sharp differences between their voices.
4.43–46 The palace is perceived through celestial radiance before its wealth is counted or morally assessed. The comparison offers sun or moon rather than selecting one luminary, so brilliance itself is the point. Telemachus' later inventory translates awe into materials, while Menelaus translates those materials into wandering and grief; the first sight remains deliberately visual and indeterminate.
Bathing and the guest-meal 4.47–67
47αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τάρπησαν ὁρώμενοι ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,
ἔς ῥʼ ἀσαμίνθους βάντες ἐυξέστας λούσαντο.
τοὺς δʼ ἐπεὶ οὖν δμῳαὶ λοῦσαν καὶ χρῖσαν ἐλαίῳ,
50ἀμφὶ δʼ ἄρα χλαίνας οὔλας βάλον ἠδὲ χιτῶνας,
ἔς ῥα θρόνους ἕζοντο παρʼ Ἀτρεΐδην Μενέλαον.
χέρνιβα δʼ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα
καλῇ χρυσείῃ ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος,
νίψασθαι· παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν.
55σῖτον δʼ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα,
εἴδατα πόλλʼ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων.
δαιτρὸς δὲ κρειῶν πίνακας παρέθηκεν ἀείρας
παντοίων, παρὰ δέ σφι τίθει χρύσεια κύπελλα.
τὼ καὶ δεικνύμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
60σίτου θʼ ἅπτεσθον καὶ χαίρετον. αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
δείπνου πασσαμένω εἰρησόμεθʼ, οἵ τινές ἐστον
ἀνδρῶν· οὐ γὰρ σφῷν γε γένος ἀπόλωλε τοκήων,
ἀλλʼ ἀνδρῶν γένος ἐστὲ διοτρεφέων βασιλήων
σκηπτούχων, ἐπεὶ οὔ κε κακοὶ τοιούσδε τέκοιεν.
65ὣς φάτο, καί σφιν νῶτα βοὸς παρὰ πίονα θῆκεν
ὄπτʼ ἐν χερσὶν ἑλών, τά ῥά οἱ γέρα πάρθεσαν αὐτῷ.
οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
47When they had satisfied their eyes with looking,
they stepped into the polished bathing tubs and washed.
After enslaved women had bathed them and rubbed them with oil,
50and wrapped them in fleecy cloaks and tunics,
they sat on chairs beside Menelaus, son of Atreus.
An attendant brought water in a fine golden pitcher
and poured it over a silver basin
for them to wash; beside them she drew up a polished table.
55The honored woman steward brought and set out bread,
adding many dishes, generous with the food at hand.
The carver lifted and set before them platters
of every kind of meat, and placed golden cups beside them.
Fair-haired Menelaus welcomed the two and said:
60“Take food and be glad. After you have
tasted the meal, we will ask what men you are.
Your parents' lineage has certainly not died away in you:
you are born from the stock of Zeus-nurtured kings
who bear the scepter, for base men could not father sons like you.”
65So he spoke and set before them the rich back-meat of an ox,
taking in his hands the roasted portion placed before him as his honor.
They reached their hands toward the good food prepared before them.
Commentary
After looking, the guests are bathed, clothed, seated, washed at table, and fed by named and unnamed workers before Menelaus asks their identity. Menelaus reads nobility from appearance, gives them his own honor portion, and delays interrogation until hunger has been answered. The sequence makes hospitality material, bodily, and distributed across the household.
4.47–58 Guest incorporation proceeds through a sequence of bathing, clothing, seating, handwashing, bread, meat, and wine performed by differentiated household workers. The sequence slows attention from the guests' eyes to their bodies and then to the table. Enslaved women, an honored woman steward, and a carver carry distinct tasks, so the host's generosity depends on visible service labor rather than on Menelaus' speech alone.
4.59–67 Menelaus feeds before questioning and reads royal descent from the strangers' appearance. His promise to ask identity only after the meal repeats the Pylian reception at 3.31-50, especially the welcome, seating, and ritual incorporation at 3.34-50 before Nestor later asks who the guests are. The inference about scepter-bearing ancestry belongs to Menelaus as host and observer; the narrator lets it prepare recognition without substituting appearance for the later confirmation.
Menelaus recounts his wealth, losses, and grief for Odysseus 4.68–112
68αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
δὴ τότε Τηλέμαχος προσεφώνεε Νέστορος υἱόν,
70ἄγχι σχὼν κεφαλήν, ἵνα μὴ πευθοίαθʼ οἱ ἄλλοι·
φράζεο, Νεστορίδη, τῷ ἐμῷ κεχαρισμένε θυμῷ,
χαλκοῦ τε στεροπὴν κὰδ δώματα ἠχήεντα
χρυσοῦ τʼ ἠλέκτρου τε καὶ ἀργύρου ἠδʼ ἐλέφαντος.
Ζηνός που τοιήδε γʼ Ὀλυμπίου ἔνδοθεν αὐλή,
75ὅσσα τάδʼ ἄσπετα πολλά· σέβας μʼ ἔχει εἰσορόωντα.
τοῦ δʼ ἀγορεύοντος ξύνετο ξανθὸς Μενέλαος,
καί σφεας φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
τέκνα φίλʼ, ἦ τοι Ζηνὶ βροτῶν οὐκ ἄν τις ἐρίζοι·
ἀθάνατοι γὰρ τοῦ γε δόμοι καὶ κτήματʼ ἔασιν·
80ἀνδρῶν δʼ ἤ κέν τίς μοι ἐρίσσεται, ἠὲ καὶ οὐκί,
κτήμασιν. ἦ γὰρ πολλὰ παθὼν καὶ πόλλʼ ἐπαληθεὶς
ἠγαγόμην ἐν νηυσὶ καὶ ὀγδοάτῳ ἔτει ἦλθον,
Κύπρον Φοινίκην τε καὶ Αἰγυπτίους ἐπαληθείς,
Αἰθίοπάς θʼ ἱκόμην καὶ Σιδονίους καὶ Ἐρεμβοὺς
85καὶ Λιβύην, ἵνα τʼ ἄρνες ἄφαρ κεραοὶ τελέθουσι.
τρὶς γὰρ τίκτει μῆλα τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτόν.
ἔνθα μὲν οὔτε ἄναξ ἐπιδευὴς οὔτε τι ποιμὴν
τυροῦ καὶ κρειῶν οὐδὲ γλυκεροῖο γάλακτος,
ἀλλʼ αἰεὶ παρέχουσιν ἐπηετανὸν γάλα θῆσθαι.
90ἧος ἐγὼ περὶ κεῖνα πολὺν βίοτον συναγείρων
ἠλώμην, τῆός μοι ἀδελφεὸν ἄλλος ἔπεφνεν
λάθρῃ, ἀνωιστί, δόλῳ οὐλομένης ἀλόχοιο·
ὣς οὔ τοι χαίρων τοῖσδε κτεάτεσσιν ἀνάσσω.
καὶ πατέρων τάδε μέλλετʼ ἀκουέμεν, οἵ τινες ὑμῖν
95εἰσίν, ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὰ πάθον, καὶ ἀπώλεσα οἶκον
εὖ μάλα ναιετάοντα, κεχανδότα πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλά.
ὧν ὄφελον τριτάτην περ ἔχων ἐν δώμασι μοῖραν
ναίειν, οἱ δʼ ἄνδρες σόοι ἔμμεναι, οἳ τότʼ ὄλοντο
Τροίῃ ἐν εὐρείῃ ἑκὰς Ἄργεος ἱπποβότοιο.
100ἀλλʼ ἔμπης πάντας μὲν ὀδυρόμενος καὶ ἀχεύων
πολλάκις ἐν μεγάροισι καθήμενος ἡμετέροισιν
ἄλλοτε μέν τε γόῳ φρένα τέρπομαι, ἄλλοτε δʼ αὖτε
παύομαι· αἰψηρὸς δὲ κόρος κρυεροῖο γόοιο.
τῶν πάντων οὐ τόσσον ὀδύρομαι, ἀχνύμενός περ,
105ὡς ἑνός, ὅς τέ μοι ὕπνον ἀπεχθαίρει καὶ ἐδωδὴν
μνωομένῳ, ἐπεὶ οὔ τις Ἀχαιῶν τόσσʼ ἐμόγησεν,
ὅσσʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἐμόγησε καὶ ἤρατο. τῷ δʼ ἄρʼ ἔμελλεν
αὐτῷ κήδεʼ ἔσεσθαι, ἐμοὶ δʼ ἄχος αἰὲν ἄλαστον
κείνου, ὅπως δὴ δηρὸν ἀποίχεται, οὐδέ τι ἴδμεν,
110ζώει ὅ γʼ ἦ τέθνηκεν. ὀδύρονταί νύ που αὐτὸν
Λαέρτης θʼ ὁ γέρων καὶ ἐχέφρων Πηνελόπεια
Τηλέμαχός θʼ, ὃν ἔλειπε νέον γεγαῶτʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ.
68When they had put away their desire for food and drink,
Telemachus spoke to Nestor's son,
70holding his head close so the others would not hear:
“Look, son of Nestor, you who are dear to my heart,
at the flash of bronze throughout these echoing halls,
and of gold and amber, silver and ivory.
The court of Olympian Zeus must look like this within,
75so countless are these riches. Awe takes me as I look.”
Fair-haired Menelaus heard him as he spoke
and addressed them both with winged words:
“Dear children, no mortal could rival Zeus,
for his house and possessions are immortal.
80Among men, someone may rival me in wealth—or may not.
For after suffering much and wandering far,
I brought these riches home in my ships and returned in the eighth year,
after wandering through Cyprus, Phoenicia, and Egypt,
and reaching the Ethiopians, Sidonians, Erembi,
85and Libya, where lambs are born with horns.
There the flocks bear young three times in the completed year.
Neither lord nor shepherd there lacks
cheese, meat, or sweet milk,
for the ewes always yield a ceaseless flow for milking.
90While I wandered in those lands gathering abundant wealth,
another man killed my brother
secretly, without warning, through the guile of his murderous wife.
So I take no joy in ruling over these possessions.
You must have heard all this from your fathers, whoever they are,
95for I suffered very much and lost a household
that lived in great prosperity and held many fine things.
I wish I could live in these halls with only a third share
of what I own, if those men were safe who died then
in broad Troy, far from horse-pasturing Argos.
100Yet though I mourn and grieve for them all,
often as I sit within my halls,
sometimes I indulge my heart in lament, and sometimes
I stop; one soon has enough of chilling grief.
For all of them, grieved as I am, I do not mourn so much
105as for one man, whose memory makes sleep and food
hateful to me, since no Achaean labored as much
as Odysseus labored and took upon himself. It was destined
that he should have suffering, and I undying sorrow
for him, because he has been gone so long and we know nothing—
110whether he is alive or dead. Somewhere, surely, they mourn him:
old Laertes, discerning Penelope,
and Telemachus, whom he left a newborn child at home.”
Commentary
Telemachus quietly compares the palace to Zeus' court, but Menelaus overhears and refuses divine equivalence. He traces his wealth to eight years of suffering and travel, then empties its pleasure by recalling Agamemnon, the dead at Troy, and especially Odysseus. Prosperity becomes a visible remainder of return rather than proof of an undamaged house.
4.68–75 ἤλεκτρον belongs to the palace's mixed vocabulary of luminous prestige, but its precise material reference need not be overfixed. Telemachus names bronze, gold, ēlektron, silver, and ivory as his gaze moves through the echoing hall. The term may evoke amber or a bright alloy in interpretation; the important local effect is its place within a sequence of gleaming substances that produces awe.
4.76–93 Menelaus answers admiration by separating divine possessions from mortal wealth and then attaching his own riches to suffering. He first rejects rivalry with Zeus, then allows only a tentative comparison among mortals. The travel catalogue explains acquisition, but Agamemnon's secret murder immediately reverses triumph: wealth can be brought home while joy in possessing it remains unavailable.
4.94–112 ἀπώλεσα οἶκον compresses loss of a prosperous household without saying that Menelaus' standing palace has literally vanished. The following wish exchanges two thirds of his possessions for the survival of the dead and clarifies that oikos here bears human and institutional loss as well as property. His grief then narrows from all the Achaeans to Odysseus, whose absence makes food and sleep hateful.
Telemachus weeps and Helen recognizes him 4.113–154
113ὣς φάτο, τῷ δʼ ἄρα πατρὸς ὑφʼ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο.
δάκρυ δʼ ἀπὸ βλεφάρων χαμάδις βάλε πατρὸς ἀκούσας,
115χλαῖναν πορφυρέην ἄντʼ ὀφθαλμοῖιν ἀνασχὼν
ἀμφοτέρῃσιν χερσί. νόησε δέ μιν Μενέλαος,
μερμήριξε δʼ ἔπειτα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,
ἠέ μιν αὐτὸν πατρὸς ἐάσειε μνησθῆναι
ἦ πρῶτʼ ἐξερέοιτο ἕκαστά τε πειρήσαιτο.
120ἧος ὁ ταῦθʼ ὥρμαινε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,
ἐκ δʼ Ἑλένη θαλάμοιο θυώδεος ὑψορόφοιο
ἤλυθεν Ἀρτέμιδι χρυσηλακάτῳ ἐικυῖα.
τῇ δʼ ἄρʼ ἅμʼ Ἀδρήστη κλισίην εὔτυκτον ἔθηκεν,
Ἀλκίππη δὲ τάπητα φέρεν μαλακοῦ ἐρίοιο,
125Φυλὼ δʼ ἀργύρεον τάλαρον φέρε, τόν οἱ ἔθηκεν
Ἀλκάνδρη, Πολύβοιο δάμαρ, ὃς ἔναιʼ ἐνὶ Θήβῃς
Αἰγυπτίῃς, ὅθι πλεῖστα δόμοις ἐν κτήματα κεῖται·
ὃς Μενελάῳ δῶκε δύʼ ἀργυρέας ἀσαμίνθους,
δοιοὺς δὲ τρίποδας, δέκα δὲ χρυσοῖο τάλαντα.
130χωρὶς δʼ αὖθʼ Ἑλένῃ ἄλοχος πόρε κάλλιμα δῶρα·
χρυσέην τʼ ἠλακάτην τάλαρόν θʼ ὑπόκυκλον ὄπασσεν
ἀργύρεον, χρυσῷ δʼ ἐπὶ χείλεα κεκράαντο.
τόν ῥά οἱ ἀμφίπολος Φυλὼ παρέθηκε φέρουσα
νήματος ἀσκητοῖο βεβυσμένον· αὐτὰρ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ
135ἠλακάτη τετάνυστο ἰοδνεφὲς εἶρος ἔχουσα.
ἕζετο δʼ ἐν κλισμῷ, ὑπὸ δὲ θρῆνυς ποσὶν ἦεν.
αὐτίκα δʼ ἥ γʼ ἐπέεσσι πόσιν ἐρέεινεν ἕκαστα·
ἴδμεν δή, Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, οἵ τινες οἵδε
ἀνδρῶν εὐχετόωνται ἱκανέμεν ἡμέτερον δῶ;
140ψεύσομαι ἦ ἔτυμον ἐρέω; κέλεται δέ με θυμός.
οὐ γάρ πώ τινά φημι ἐοικότα ὧδε ἰδέσθαι
οὔτʼ ἄνδρʼ οὔτε γυναῖκα, σέβας μʼ ἔχει εἰσορόωσαν,
ὡς ὅδʼ Ὀδυσσῆος μεγαλήτορος υἷι ἔοικε,
Τηλεμάχῳ, τὸν ἔλειπε νέον γεγαῶτʼ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
145κεῖνος ἀνήρ, ὅτʼ ἐμεῖο κυνώπιδος εἵνεκʼ Ἀχαιοὶ
ἤλθεθʼ ὑπὸ Τροίην πόλεμον θρασὺν ὁρμαίνοντες.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
οὕτω νῦν καὶ ἐγὼ νοέω, γύναι, ὡς σὺ ἐίσκεις·
κείνου γὰρ τοιοίδε πόδες τοιαίδε τε χεῖρες
150ὀφθαλμῶν τε βολαὶ κεφαλή τʼ ἐφύπερθέ τε χαῖται.
καὶ νῦν ἦ τοι ἐγὼ μεμνημένος ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆι
μυθεόμην, ὅσα κεῖνος ὀιζύσας ἐμόγησεν
ἀμφʼ ἐμοί, αὐτὰρ ὁ πικρὸν ὑπʼ ὀφρύσι δάκρυον εἶβε,
χλαῖναν πορφυρέην ἄντʼ ὀφθαλμοῖιν ἀνασχών.
113So he spoke, and stirred in Telemachus a longing to weep for his father.
Hearing his father named, he let a tear fall from his eyelids to the ground
115and raised his purple cloak before his eyes
with both hands. Menelaus noticed him
and pondered then within his mind and spirit
whether to let the young man mention his father himself
or question him first and test every detail.
120While he was weighing this within his mind and spirit,
Helen came out from her fragrant, high-roofed chamber,
looking like Artemis of the golden distaff.
Adreste placed a well-made chair for her,
Alcippe brought a rug of soft wool,
125and Phylo carried a silver basket, given to Helen
by Alcandre, wife of Polybus, who lived in Thebes
in Egypt, where the greatest wealth lies stored in houses.
Polybus gave Menelaus two silver bathing tubs,
two tripods, and ten talents of gold.
130Separately, his wife gave Helen beautiful gifts:
she presented a golden distaff and a round basket
of silver, with its rim finished in gold.
The attendant Phylo brought and placed it beside her,
filled with finely spun yarn; across it
135lay the distaff holding violet-dark wool.
Helen sat in the chair, with a footstool beneath her feet.
At once she questioned her husband in detail:
“Do we know, Zeus-nurtured Menelaus, who these men
claim to be who have come to our house?
140Shall I prove false, or speak the truth? My heart commands me.
I say I have never seen anyone so alike,
man or woman—awe takes me as I look—
as this man resembles the son of great-hearted Odysseus,
Telemachus, whom that man left a newborn child at home
145when, because of me, shameless woman that I was, you Achaeans
came beneath Troy and roused the fury of war.”
Fair-haired Menelaus answered her:
“Wife, I now think just as you suppose.
Those were his feet, and those his hands,
150the cast of his eyes, his head, and the hair above it.
Only now, as I remembered Odysseus
and told how much misery and labor he endured
for my sake, this young man shed a bitter tear beneath his brows
and raised his purple cloak before his eyes.”
Commentary
The mention of Odysseus makes Telemachus hide tears behind his cloak, and Menelaus deliberates whether to test him or let him speak. Helen enters with attendants and richly traveled objects, then recognizes the stranger as Odysseus' son by an astonishing resemblance. Her recognition also names herself as the cause for which the Achaeans came to Troy, but that self-indictment remains her own speech.
4.113–120 Telemachus' hidden tear becomes evidence that Menelaus notices but does not immediately interpret aloud. The cloak both conceals grief from the room and displays the act of concealment to Menelaus. His internal alternatives—wait for self-disclosure or question and test—stage recognition as an ethical and evidentiary decision before Helen enters with a more direct claim.
4.121–136 Helen's entrance is constructed through attendant labor and gifted objects whose prior journeys mirror the household's wider networks. Chair, rug, silver basket, yarn, and golden distaff are placed around her by named women. The narrator traces some objects to Egyptian Thebes and separate gift exchange between women, making Helen's visual authority inseparable from service, craft, and accumulated hospitality.
4.137–146 Helen recognizes Telemachus through resemblance and immediately embeds that recognition in a self-accusing account of the war. Her question moves from claimed uncertainty to a truth her heart commands her to speak. κυνῶπις is severe self-description within Helen's voice; it should be registered as part of her retrospective posture without being converted into an unqualified narrator verdict on the whole war.
4.149–154 Menelaus reads paternal likeness through a bodily catalogue and then adds the repeated cloak-before-eyes gesture as behavioral evidence. Feet, hands, gaze, head, and hair make resemblance distributed rather than dependent on one feature. The near repetition of Telemachus' tear concealment converts a private reaction already seen by the audience into the final clue Menelaus articulates.
Peisistratus confirms Telemachus' identity 4.155–182
155τὸν δʼ αὖ Νεστορίδης Πεισίστρατος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
κείνου μέν τοι ὅδʼ υἱὸς ἐτήτυμον, ὡς ἀγορεύεις·
ἀλλὰ σαόφρων ἐστί, νεμεσσᾶται δʼ ἐνὶ θυμῷ
ὧδʼ ἐλθὼν τὸ πρῶτον ἐπεσβολίας ἀναφαίνειν
160ἄντα σέθεν, τοῦ νῶι θεοῦ ὣς τερπόμεθʼ αὐδῇ.
αὐτὰρ ἐμὲ προέηκε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ
τῷ ἅμα πομπὸν ἕπεσθαι· ἐέλδετο γάρ σε ἰδέσθαι,
ὄφρα οἱ ἤ τι ἔπος ὑποθήσεαι ἠέ τι ἔργον.
πολλὰ γὰρ ἄλγεʼ ἔχει πατρὸς πάϊς οἰχομένοιο
165ἐν μεγάροις, ᾧ μὴ ἄλλοι ἀοσσητῆρες ἔωσιν,
ὡς νῦν Τηλεμάχῳ ὁ μὲν οἴχεται, οὐδέ οἱ ἄλλοι
εἴσʼ οἵ κεν κατὰ δῆμον ἀλάλκοιεν κακότητα.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ φίλου ἀνέρος υἱὸς ἐμὸν δῶ
170ἵκεθʼ, ὃς εἵνεκʼ ἐμεῖο πολέας ἐμόγησεν ἀέθλους·
καί μιν ἔφην ἐλθόντα φιλησέμεν ἔξοχον ἄλλων
Ἀργείων, εἰ νῶιν ὑπεὶρ ἅλα νόστον ἔδωκε
νηυσὶ θοῇσι γενέσθαι Ὀλύμπιος εὐρύοπα Ζεύς.
καί κέ οἱ Ἄργεϊ νάσσα πόλιν καὶ δώματʼ ἔτευξα,
175ἐξ Ἰθάκης ἀγαγὼν σὺν κτήμασι καὶ τέκεϊ ᾧ
καὶ πᾶσιν λαοῖσι, μίαν πόλιν ἐξαλαπάξας,
αἳ περιναιετάουσιν, ἀνάσσονται δʼ ἐμοὶ αὐτῷ.
καί κε θάμʼ ἐνθάδʼ ἐόντες ἐμισγόμεθʼ· οὐδέ κεν ἡμέας
ἄλλο διέκρινεν φιλέοντέ τε τερπομένω τε,
180πρίν γʼ ὅτε δὴ θανάτοιο μέλαν νέφος ἀμφεκάλυψεν.
ἀλλὰ τὰ μέν που μέλλεν ἀγάσσεσθαι θεὸς αὐτός,
ὃς κεῖνον δύστηνον ἀνόστιμον οἶον ἔθηκεν.
155Peisistratus, Nestor's son, answered him face to face:
“Zeus-nurtured Menelaus, son of Atreus, leader of the people,
he truly is that man's son, as you say.
But he is self-possessed, and in his heart he would be ashamed
on his first arrival here to make a rash display of words
160before you, whose voice delights us like a god's.
The Gerenian horseman Nestor sent me ahead
to accompany him as escort. Telemachus longed to see you,
so that you might advise him by some word or action.
For the son of a father long absent has many pains
165within his halls when he has no other defenders,
as Telemachus has none now: his father is gone,
and there are no others among his people to ward off harm.”
Fair-haired Menelaus answered him:
“Oh, how astonishing—the son of a man dear to me
170has come to my house, the man who endured so many trials for my sake.
I thought that when he came I would love him above all
the Argives, if Olympian, far-seeing Zeus had granted
the two of us a return across the sea in our swift ships.
I would have settled a city for him in Argos and built him a house,
175bringing him from Ithaca with his possessions and his son
and all his people, after emptying one city
whose people live around us and are ruled by me.
Living here, we would have met often, and nothing
would have parted us as we loved and delighted in one another
180until the black cloud of death enclosed us.
But some god must have begrudged us this,
the god who made that wretched man alone returnless.”
Commentary
Peisistratus confirms Telemachus' identity and explains his restraint as self-possession before an admired elder. He also states the practical reason for the visit: Nestor has sent him as escort because Telemachus lacks defenders at home and needs Menelaus' counsel. Menelaus answers with affection for Odysseus and imagines a shared Argive settlement that divine hostility and failed return have prevented.
4.155–167 Peisistratus opposes Telemachus' σωφροσύνη to an untimely display of ἐπεσβολίαι before an elder. The rare plural can carry intrusive, presumptuous, or showy verbal force; Peisistratus' point is not that Telemachus cannot speak but that first arrival before Menelaus calls for restraint. He then speaks on his companion's behalf, converting modest silence into a clear statement of need.
4.168–182 Menelaus imagines solving distance by relocating Odysseus' entire Ithacan community beside him, then attributes the unrealized future to divine jealousy. The counterfactual expands affection from one guest to possessions, child, and people, yet it also assumes Menelaus can empty a neighboring city under his rule. The black cloud of death sets a mortal limit, while the unnamed god accounts for Odysseus alone remaining without return.
Shared mourning and Peisistratus' counsel 4.183–218
183ὣς φάτο, τοῖσι δὲ πᾶσιν ὑφʼ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο.
κλαῖε μὲν Ἀργείη Ἑλένη, Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα,
185κλαῖε δὲ Τηλέμαχός τε καὶ Ἀτρεΐδης Μενέλαος,
οὐδʼ ἄρα Νέστορος υἱὸς ἀδακρύτω ἔχεν ὄσσε·
μνήσατο γὰρ κατὰ θυμὸν ἀμύμονος Ἀντιλόχοιο,
τόν ῥʼ Ἠοῦς ἔκτεινε φαεινῆς ἀγλαὸς υἱός·
τοῦ ὅ γʼ ἐπιμνησθεὶς ἔπεα πτερόεντʼ ἀγόρευεν·
190Ἀτρεΐδη, περὶ μέν σε βροτῶν πεπνυμένον εἶναι
Νέστωρ φάσχʼ ὁ γέρων, ὅτʼ ἐπιμνησαίμεθα σεῖο
οἷσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισι, καὶ ἀλλήλους ἐρέοιμεν.
καὶ νῦν, εἴ τί που ἔστι, πίθοιό μοι· οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γε
τέρπομʼ ὀδυρόμενος μεταδόρπιος, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἠὼς
195ἔσσεται ἠριγένεια· νεμεσσῶμαί γε μὲν οὐδὲν
κλαίειν ὅς κε θάνῃσι βροτῶν καὶ πότμον ἐπίσπῃ.
τοῦτό νυ καὶ γέρας οἶον ὀιζυροῖσι βροτοῖσιν,
κείρασθαί τε κόμην βαλέειν τʼ ἀπὸ δάκρυ παρειῶν.
καὶ γὰρ ἐμὸς τέθνηκεν ἀδελφεός, οὔ τι κάκιστος
200Ἀργείων· μέλλεις δὲ σὺ ἴδμεναι· οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γε
ἤντησʼ οὐδὲ ἴδον· περὶ δʼ ἄλλων φασὶ γενέσθαι
Ἀντίλοχον, πέρι μὲν θείειν ταχὺν ἠδὲ μαχητήν.
τὸν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
ὦ φίλʼ, ἐπεὶ τόσα εἶπες, ὅσʼ ἂν πεπνυμένος ἀνὴρ
205εἴποι καὶ ῥέξειε, καὶ ὃς προγενέστερος εἴη·
τοίου γὰρ καὶ πατρός, ὃ καὶ πεπνυμένα βάζεις,
ῥεῖα δʼ ἀρίγνωτος γόνος ἀνέρος ᾧ τε Κρονίων
ὄλβον ἐπικλώσῃ γαμέοντί τε γεινομένῳ τε,
ὡς νῦν Νέστορι δῶκε διαμπερὲς ἤματα πάντα
210αὐτὸν μὲν λιπαρῶς γηρασκέμεν ἐν μεγάροισιν,
υἱέας αὖ πινυτούς τε καὶ ἔγχεσιν εἶναι ἀρίστους.
ἡμεῖς δὲ κλαυθμὸν μὲν ἐάσομεν, ὃς πρὶν ἐτύχθη,
δόρπου δʼ ἐξαῦτις μνησώμεθα, χερσὶ δʼ ἐφʼ ὕδωρ
χευάντων. μῦθοι δὲ καὶ ἠῶθέν περ ἔσονται
215Τηλεμάχῳ καὶ ἐμοὶ διαειπέμεν ἀλλήλοισιν.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, Ἀσφαλίων δʼ ἄρʼ ὕδωρ ἐπὶ χεῖρας ἔχευεν,
ὀτρηρὸς θεράπων Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.
οἱ δʼ ἐπʼ ὀνείαθʼ ἑτοῖμα προκείμενα χεῖρας ἴαλλον.
183So he spoke, and stirred in all of them a longing to weep.
Argive Helen, born from Zeus, wept;
185Telemachus wept, and Menelaus, son of Atreus,
nor could Nestor's son keep his eyes free of tears,
for in his heart he remembered blameless Antilochus,
whom the splendid son of bright Dawn had killed.
Remembering him, he spoke these winged words:
190“Son of Atreus, the old man Nestor used to say that you
surpassed all mortals in wisdom whenever we recalled you
in our halls and questioned one another.
Now, if it is possible, listen to me. I take no pleasure
in mourning after supper, and early-born Dawn
195will come. I feel no blame at all in weeping
for any mortal who dies and meets his fate.
This is the only honor left for miserable mortals:
to cut the hair and let a tear fall from the cheeks.
My own brother too is dead, and he was not the worst
200of the Argives—you must know, though I
never met or saw him. They say Antilochus surpassed
the others, outstanding as a swift runner and a fighter.”
Fair-haired Menelaus answered him:
“Dear child, you have said all that a discerning man
205would say and do, even one older than yourself.
Born of such a father, you too speak discerningly.
The offspring of a man on whom the son of Cronus spins
good fortune in marriage and birth is easily recognized.
So now he has granted Nestor, through all his days,
210to grow old in comfort within his halls
and have sons both wise and foremost with the spear.
We will leave the mourning that came upon us before
and think again of supper. Let them pour water
over our hands. There will be speeches at dawn
215for Telemachus and me to exchange with one another.”
So he spoke, and Asphalion poured water over their hands,
the diligent attendant of glorious Menelaus.
They reached their hands toward the good food prepared before them.
Commentary
Menelaus' words draw Helen, Telemachus, Menelaus, and Peisistratus into distinct griefs. Peisistratus remembers Antilochus, accepts tears as the remaining honor for the dead, yet asks that mourning after supper be bounded until dawn. Menelaus recognizes Nestor's wisdom in the son's speech and restores the meal without pretending the losses are resolved.
4.183–202 Peisistratus treats tears and cut hair as the surviving honor of the dead while arguing that mourning should yield temporarily to the meal. His own tears for Antilochus authorize rather than diminish the counsel. The temporal distinction matters: dawn will come, and grief may continue, but lament after supper should not consume the whole gathering. Controlled mourning remains mourning.
4.203–218 Menelaus recognizes Nestor in Peisistratus' discerning speech and restores the gathering to food before tomorrow's exchange. Recognition now travels through language and conduct rather than body alone. Menelaus' praise links inherited good fortune to marriage, birth, age, and sons, yet the immediate narrative function is practical: handwashing and supper resume while Telemachus' central question is deferred to dawn.
Helen's drug and tale of Odysseus in disguise 4.219–264
219ἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησʼ Ἑλένη Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα·
220αὐτίκʼ ἄρʼ εἰς οἶνον βάλε φάρμακον, ἔνθεν ἔπινον,
νηπενθές τʼ ἄχολόν τε, κακῶν ἐπίληθον ἁπάντων.
ὃς τὸ καταβρόξειεν, ἐπὴν κρητῆρι μιγείη,
οὔ κεν ἐφημέριός γε βάλοι κατὰ δάκρυ παρειῶν,
οὐδʼ εἴ οἱ κατατεθναίη μήτηρ τε πατήρ τε,
225οὐδʼ εἴ οἱ προπάροιθεν ἀδελφεὸν ἢ φίλον υἱὸν
χαλκῷ δηιόῳεν, ὁ δʼ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῷτο.
τοῖα Διὸς θυγάτηρ ἔχε φάρμακα μητιόεντα,
ἐσθλά, τά οἱ Πολύδαμνα πόρεν, Θῶνος παράκοιτις
Αἰγυπτίη, τῇ πλεῖστα φέρει ζείδωρος ἄρουρα
230φάρμακα, πολλὰ μὲν ἐσθλὰ μεμιγμένα πολλὰ δὲ λυγρά·
ἰητρὸς δὲ ἕκαστος ἐπιστάμενος περὶ πάντων
ἀνθρώπων· ἦ γὰρ Παιήονός εἰσι γενέθλης.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐνέηκε κέλευσέ τε οἰνοχοῆσαι,
ἐξαῦτις μύθοισιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπεν·
235Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφὲς ἠδὲ καὶ οἵδε
ἀνδρῶν ἐσθλῶν παῖδες· ἀτὰρ θεὸς ἄλλοτε ἄλλῳ
Ζεὺς ἀγαθόν τε κακόν τε διδοῖ· δύναται γὰρ ἅπαντα·
ἦ τοι νῦν δαίνυσθε καθήμενοι ἐν μεγάροισι
καὶ μύθοις τέρπεσθε· ἐοικότα γὰρ καταλέξω.
240πάντα μὲν οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδʼ ὀνομήνω,
ὅσσοι Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονός εἰσιν ἄεθλοι·
ἀλλʼ οἷον τόδʼ ἔρεξε καὶ ἔτλη καρτερὸς ἀνὴρ
δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχετε πήματʼ Ἀχαιοί.
αὐτόν μιν πληγῇσιν ἀεικελίῃσι δαμάσσας,
245σπεῖρα κάκʼ ἀμφʼ ὤμοισι βαλών, οἰκῆι ἐοικώς,
ἀνδρῶν δυσμενέων κατέδυ πόλιν εὐρυάγυιαν·
ἄλλῳ δʼ αὐτὸν φωτὶ κατακρύπτων ἤισκε,
δέκτῃ, ὃς οὐδὲν τοῖος ἔην ἐπὶ νηυσὶν Ἀχαιῶν.
τῷ ἴκελος κατέδυ Τρώων πόλιν, οἱ δʼ ἀβάκησαν
250πάντες· ἐγὼ δέ μιν οἴη ἀνέγνων τοῖον ἐόντα,
καί μιν ἀνηρώτων· ὁ δὲ κερδοσύνῃ ἀλέεινεν.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή μιν ἐγὼ λόεον καὶ χρῖον ἐλαίῳ,
ἀμφὶ δὲ εἵματα ἕσσα καὶ ὤμοσα καρτερὸν ὅρκον
μὴ μὲν πρὶν Ὀδυσῆα μετὰ Τρώεσσʼ ἀναφῆναι,
255πρίν γε τὸν ἐς νῆάς τε θοὰς κλισίας τʼ ἀφικέσθαι,
καὶ τότε δή μοι πάντα νόον κατέλεξεν Ἀχαιῶν.
πολλοὺς δὲ Τρώων κτείνας ταναήκεϊ χαλκῷ
ἦλθε μετʼ Ἀργείους, κατὰ δὲ φρόνιν ἤγαγε πολλήν.
ἔνθʼ ἄλλαι Τρῳαὶ λίγʼ ἐκώκυον· αὐτὰρ ἐμὸν κῆρ
260χαῖρʼ, ἐπεὶ ἤδη μοι κραδίη τέτραπτο νέεσθαι
ἂψ οἶκόνδʼ, ἄτην δὲ μετέστενον, ἣν Ἀφροδίτη
δῶχʼ, ὅτε μʼ ἤγαγε κεῖσε φίλης ἀπὸ πατρίδος αἴης,
παῖδά τʼ ἐμὴν νοσφισσαμένην θάλαμόν τε πόσιν τε
οὔ τευ δευόμενον, οὔτʼ ἂρ φρένας οὔτε τι εἶδος.
219Then Helen, born from Zeus, devised another plan.
220At once she cast a drug into the wine they were drinking,
a drug that banished grief and anger and made every sorrow forgotten.
Whoever swallowed it once it was mixed in the bowl
would not let a tear fall down his cheeks for the whole day,
not even if his mother and father lay dead,
225not even if a brother or dear son were cut down before him
with bronze while he watched it with his own eyes.
Such were the cunning and potent drugs Zeus's daughter possessed,
given her by Polydamna of Egypt, wife of Thon.
There the grain-giving earth produces drugs in greatest abundance,
230many beneficial when mixed, and many harmful.
There every physician is skilled beyond
all other people, for they descend from Paeon.
When Helen had put in the drug and ordered wine poured,
she answered once more and said:
235“Zeus-nurtured Menelaus, son of Atreus, and you here,
sons of noble men—Zeus the god gives good and evil
now to one, now another, for he can do anything.
For now, sit here feasting in the halls
and delight in stories; I will tell one suited to the occasion.
240I could not recount or name every one
of steadfast-hearted Odysseus' trials,
but here is one thing the strong man did and endured
in the Trojan land, where you Achaeans suffered misery.
He marred his own body with disfiguring blows,
245threw wretched rags over his shoulders, and made himself look like a household slave;
then he slipped inside the broad-streeted city of his enemies.
He concealed himself beneath the likeness of another man,
a beggar—nothing like the man he was beside the Achaean ships.
In that form he entered the Trojan city, and they all stood speechless.
250I alone recognized him for the man he was
and questioned him, but he evaded me with cunning.
But after I had bathed him and rubbed him with oil,
put clothes around him, and sworn a binding oath
not to reveal Odysseus among the Trojans
255before he reached the swift ships and shelters,
then he told me the whole purpose of the Achaeans.
After killing many Trojans with long-edged bronze,
he reached the Argives and brought back a wealth of intelligence.
Then the other Trojan women wailed aloud, but my heart
260rejoiced, for by then my heart had turned toward returning
home, and I lamented the delusion Aphrodite
gave me when she led me there from my dear native land,
leaving my daughter, bridal chamber, and husband,
a man lacking nothing in mind or looks.”
Commentary
Helen mixes a potent Egyptian drug into the wine, suppressing tears and anger before she begins an Odyssean story suited to the gathering. She recalls Odysseus entering Troy disguised as a beaten household slave, her private recognition of him, and the intelligence he carried back after killing Trojans. Her closing account presents her heart as turned homeward and attributes her earlier departure to Aphrodite-given delusion.
4.219–232 νηπενθές, ἄχολον, and κακῶν ἐπίληθον describe related but distinct effects: grief, anger, and memory of evils are all controlled. The narrator intensifies the drug through a counterfactual day in which even immediate family deaths would not produce tears. That scope makes Helen's intervention ethically and emotionally powerful, but the text calls the substance effective rather than explicitly judging whether such suppression is good.
4.233–243 Helen administers the drug before proposing a story fitted to the occasion, so emotional regulation and narrative selection form one intervention. She acknowledges that Odysseus' trials cannot all be named and chooses a single action that displays endurance. The claim that her tale is fitting is Helen's own framing; Menelaus' subsequent answer tests that fit by placing another memory beside it.
4.244–258 Helen's Odysseus masters recognition by making himself bodily unlike his Achaean identity while retaining control of what he reveals. Self-inflicted marks, poor clothing, and a servant-like appearance let him enter enemy space. Helen alone recognizes him, yet even under questioning he evades her until oath, bathing, clothing, and safe-return conditions precede disclosure of the Achaean plan.
4.259–264 Helen narrates her own joy at Trojan loss and explains her earlier departure through a delusion given by Aphrodite. The turn toward home, lament for atē, and praise of Menelaus all belong to a retrospective self-account delivered in Menelaus' hall. The language gives divine agency a role without erasing Helen's speaking responsibility or settling the discrepancy with the next tale.
Menelaus recalls Odysseus inside the wooden horse 4.265–289
265τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
ναὶ δὴ ταῦτά γε πάντα, γύναι, κατὰ μοῖραν ἔειπες.
ἤδη μὲν πολέων ἐδάην βουλήν τε νόον τε
ἀνδρῶν ἡρώων, πολλὴν δʼ ἐπελήλυθα γαῖαν·
ἀλλʼ οὔ πω τοιοῦτον ἐγὼν ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσιν,
270οἷον Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος ἔσκε φίλον κῆρ.
οἷον καὶ τόδʼ ἔρεξε καὶ ἔτλη καρτερὸς ἀνὴρ
ἵππῳ ἔνι ξεστῷ, ἵνʼ ἐνήμεθα πάντες ἄριστοι
Ἀργείων Τρώεσσι φόνον καὶ κῆρα φέροντες.
ἦλθες ἔπειτα σὺ κεῖσε· κελευσέμεναι δέ σʼ ἔμελλε
275δαίμων, ὃς Τρώεσσιν ἐβούλετο κῦδος ὀρέξαι·
καί τοι Δηΐφοβος θεοείκελος ἕσπετʼ ἰούσῃ.
τρὶς δὲ περίστειξας κοῖλον λόχον ἀμφαφόωσα,
ἐκ δʼ ὀνομακλήδην Δαναῶν ὀνόμαζες ἀρίστους,
πάντων Ἀργείων φωνὴν ἴσκουσʼ ἀλόχοισιν.
280αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ καὶ Τυδεΐδης καὶ δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἥμενοι ἐν μέσσοισιν ἀκούσαμεν ὡς ἐβόησας.
νῶι μὲν ἀμφοτέρω μενεήναμεν ὁρμηθέντε
ἢ ἐξελθέμεναι, ἢ ἔνδοθεν αἶψʼ ὑπακοῦσαι·
ἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεὺς κατέρυκε καὶ ἔσχεθεν ἱεμένω περ.
285ἔνθʼ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἀκὴν ἔσαν υἷες Ἀχαιῶν,
Ἄντικλος δὲ σέ γʼ οἶος ἀμείψασθαι ἐπέεσσιν
ἤθελεν. ἀλλʼ Ὀδυσεὺς ἐπὶ μάστακα χερσὶ πίεζεν
νωλεμέως κρατερῇσι, σάωσε δὲ πάντας Ἀχαιούς·
τόφρα δʼ ἔχʼ, ὄφρα σε νόσφιν ἀπήγαγε Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη.
265Fair-haired Menelaus answered her:
“Yes, wife, everything you have said is in due measure.
I have come to know the counsel and minds of many
heroic men, and I have traveled over much of the earth,
but never with my own eyes have I seen a heart
270such as steadfast-hearted Odysseus had within him.
Consider what the strong man did and endured
inside the polished horse, where all the best
of the Argives sat, carrying murder and death to the Trojans.
Then you came there. Some divine power must have urged you,
275one that wished to grant glory to the Trojans,
and godlike Deiphobus followed as you went.
Three times you circled the hollow ambush, touching it all around,
and called the best of the Danaans by name,
imitating the voice of every Argive's wife.
280The son of Tydeus, godlike Odysseus, and I
sat in the middle and heard you call.
Diomedes and I both sprang up, eager
either to emerge or answer you at once from within,
but Odysseus restrained us and held us back despite our urgency.
285Then all the other sons of the Achaeans stayed silent,
and Anticlus alone wanted to answer you
with words. But Odysseus kept pressing his powerful hands
over the man's mouth without pause and saved all the Achaeans.
He held him until Pallas Athena led you away.”
Commentary
Menelaus affirms Odysseus' endurance but answers Helen with a memory that places her outside the wooden horse, circling it and imitating the warriors' wives. An unnamed divine power is said to have urged her, Deiphobus accompanies her, and Odysseus suppresses responses from within. The episode praises his restraint while preserving a disturbing alternative memory of Helen's Troy conduct.
4.265–275 Menelaus begins by affirming Helen's due measure but then introduces a memory that complicates her homeward self-portrait. Praise of Odysseus' steadfast heart bridges the stories, while the wooden horse moves Helen from recognizing helper to dangerous tester. Menelaus attributes her arrival to an unnamed daimōn favorable to the Trojans, preserving divine prompting but not specifying whether Helen knew or shared that purpose.
4.277–289 Voice imitation turns the wooden horse into a test of memory and self-control that Odysseus passes by controlling others' bodies. Helen circles three times, touches the structure, names warriors, and reproduces each wife's voice. Menelaus and Diomedes nearly respond, Anticlus attempts it, and Odysseus restrains him until Athena leads Helen away; survival depends on silence imposed under intense personal recognition.
4.282–289 The rapid alternatives of emerging or answering yield to repeated restraint and a final release only when Athena removes Helen. Balanced impulses in the dual give way to verbs of checking, holding, pressing, and saving across successive lines. The audible accumulation makes endurance physical and prolonged, though this note does not claim exhaustive scansion or a fixed metrical signature for restraint.
Telemachus asks for sleep 4.290–305
290τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
ἄλγιον· οὐ γάρ οἵ τι τάδʼ ἤρκεσε λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον,
οὐδʼ εἴ οἱ κραδίη γε σιδηρέη ἔνδοθεν ἦεν.
ἀλλʼ ἄγετʼ εἰς εὐνὴν τράπεθʼ ἡμέας, ὄφρα καὶ ἤδη
295ὕπνῳ ὕπο γλυκερῷ ταρπώμεθα κοιμηθέντες.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, Ἀργείη δʼ Ἑλένη δμῳῇσι κέλευσεν
δέμνιʼ ὑπʼ αἰθούσῃ θέμεναι καὶ ῥήγεα καλὰ
πορφύρεʼ ἐμβαλέειν στορέσαι τʼ ἐφύπερθε τάπητας,
χλαίνας τʼ ἐνθέμεναι οὔλας καθύπερθεν ἕσασθαι.
300αἱ δʼ ἴσαν ἐκ μεγάροιο δάος μετὰ χερσὶν ἔχουσαι,
δέμνια δὲ στόρεσαν· ἐκ δὲ ξείνους ἄγε κῆρυξ.
οἱ μὲν ἄρʼ ἐν προδόμῳ δόμου αὐτόθι κοιμήσαντο,
Τηλέμαχός θʼ ἥρως καὶ Νέστορος ἀγλαὸς υἱός·
Ἀτρεΐδης δὲ καθεῦδε μυχῷ δόμου ὑψηλοῖο,
305πὰρ δʼ Ἑλένη τανύπεπλος ἐλέξατο, δῖα γυναικῶν.
290Discerning Telemachus answered him face to face:
“Zeus-nurtured Menelaus, son of Atreus, leader of the people,
all the more painful, since none of this warded off his grievous death,
not even if the heart inside him had been made of iron.
But come, lead us toward bed now, so that at last
295we may lie down and take delight in sweet sleep.”
So he spoke, and Argive Helen ordered the enslaved women
to set beds beneath the portico and lay down fine
purple blankets, spread rugs over them,
and place fleecy cloaks on top for covering.
300They went from the hall with torches in their hands
and spread the beds, while a herald led the guests outside.
There in the forecourt of the house they lay down to sleep,
heroic Telemachus and Nestor's splendid son.
The son of Atreus slept in the innermost part of the high house,
305and beside him lay long-robed Helen, glorious among women.
Commentary
Telemachus hears in Odysseus' past success no guarantee against present death and asks to end the evening. Helen orders beds made for the guests under the portico, while she and Menelaus sleep deeper inside the house. The spatial arrangement closes the first Spartan day with hospitality fulfilled but the central inquiry deferred.
4.290–305 Telemachus converts admiration for Odysseus' endurance into recognition that strength did not avert an unknown death. His response refuses the consoling implication that past excellence secures return, then requests sleep. The bedding sequence redistributes the household by space—guests under the portico, Menelaus and Helen within—while postponing evidence about Odysseus until dawn.
Telemachus appeals for news of his father 4.306–331
306ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
ὤρνυτʼ ἄρʼ ἐξ εὐνῆφι βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος
εἵματα ἑσσάμενος, περὶ δὲ ξίφος ὀξὺ θέτʼ ὤμῳ,
ποσσὶ δʼ ὑπὸ λιπαροῖσιν ἐδήσατο καλὰ πέδιλα,
310βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἐκ θαλάμοιο θεῷ ἐναλίγκιος ἄντην,
Τηλεμάχῳ δὲ παρῖζεν, ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
τίπτε δέ σε χρειὼ δεῦρʼ ἤγαγε, Τηλέμαχʼ ἥρως,
ἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν, ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης;
δήμιον ἦ ἴδιον; τόδε μοι νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες.
315τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφές, ὄρχαμε λαῶν,
ἤλυθον, εἴ τινά μοι κληηδόνα πατρὸς ἐνίσποις.
ἐσθίεταί μοι οἶκος, ὄλωλε δὲ πίονα ἔργα,
δυσμενέων δʼ ἀνδρῶν πλεῖος δόμος, οἵ τέ μοι αἰεὶ
320μῆλʼ ἁδινὰ σφάζουσι καὶ εἰλίποδας ἕλικας βοῦς,
μητρὸς ἐμῆς μνηστῆρες ὑπέρβιον ὕβριν ἔχοντες.
τοὔνεκα νῦν τὰ σὰ γούναθʼ ἱκάνομαι, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα
κείνου λυγρὸν ὄλεθρον ἐνισπεῖν, εἴ που ὄπωπας
ὀφθαλμοῖσι τεοῖσιν ἢ ἄλλου μῦθον ἄκουσας
325πλαζομένου· περὶ γάρ μιν ὀιζυρὸν τέκε μήτηρ.
μηδέ τί μʼ αἰδόμενος μειλίσσεο μηδʼ ἐλεαίρων,
ἀλλʼ εὖ μοι κατάλεξον ὅπως ἤντησας ὀπωπῆς.
λίσσομαι, εἴ ποτέ τοί τι πατὴρ ἐμός, ἐσθλὸς Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἢ ἔπος ἠέ τι ἔργον ὑποστὰς ἐξετέλεσσε
330δήμῳ ἔνι Τρώων, ὅθι πάσχετε πήματʼ Ἀχαιοί,
τῶν νῦν μοι μνῆσαι, καί μοι νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες.
306When early-born Dawn appeared, rosy-fingered,
Menelaus, skilled in the war cry, rose from his bed,
put on his clothes, slung a sharp sword over his shoulder,
and bound fine sandals beneath his shining feet.
310He came from the chamber looking like a god,
sat beside Telemachus, and addressed him by name:
“Heroic Telemachus, what need brought you here
to divine Lacedaemon, over the broad back of the sea?
Was it public or private? Tell me the unerring truth.”
315Discerning Telemachus answered him face to face:
“Zeus-nurtured Menelaus, son of Atreus, leader of the people,
I came in hope you could tell me some report of my father.
My household is being consumed and my rich fields ruined.
My house is filled with hostile men, who continually
320slaughter my crowded sheep and shambling, spiral-horned cattle—
the suitors of my mother, men of overbearing violence.
That is why I now come to your knees, in hope you will
tell me of his grievous death, if you saw it somewhere
with your own eyes or heard another wanderer's account.
325For his mother bore him to misery beyond all other men.
Do not soften your words out of respect or pity for me;
tell me fully how he came within your sight.
I beg you: if ever my father, noble Odysseus,
undertook some word or deed for you and brought it to completion
330in the Trojan land, where you Achaeans suffered misery,
remember these things now, and tell me the truth.”
Commentary
At dawn Menelaus asks whether Telemachus' need is public or private. Telemachus names both: his household is being consumed by violent suitors, and he seeks direct sight or a wanderer's report about Odysseus. Kneeling in supplication, he asks Menelaus not to soften the truth and invokes any completed service his father performed at Troy.
4.306–314 The rosy-fingered Dawn formula reopens the deferred inquiry, and Menelaus sharpens it by asking whether the need is public or private. Dawn, dressing, weapon, sandals, godlike appearance, and sitting beside the guest form a compact transition from night hospitality to counsel. The public-private alternative suits Telemachus' problem because information about his father and violence against his house cannot finally be separated.
4.315–331 Telemachus structures his appeal around evidentiary alternatives and asks Menelaus to resist the distortions of pity. He states present household damage, seeks either eyewitness knowledge or another traveler's report, and invokes Odysseus' completed service at Troy. The request does not demand good news; it demands an exact account of what came within Menelaus' sight or hearing.
4.318–321 The passive consumption of οἶκος and loss of rich works make the suitors' ὕβρις simultaneously economic, social, and bodily. Telemachus places hostile men inside the house and immediately names the repeated slaughter of sheep and cattle. ὑπέρβιον ὕβριν describes force exceeding proper bounds; the phrase should not be narrowed to pride detached from material occupation.
Menelaus rebukes the suitors and promises the truth 4.332–350
332τὸν δὲ μέγʼ ὀχθήσας προσέθη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μάλα δὴ κρατερόφρονος ἀνδρὸς ἐν εὐνῇ
ἤθελον εὐνηθῆναι ἀνάλκιδες αὐτοὶ ἐόντες.
335ὡς δʼ ὁπότʼ ἐν ξυλόχῳ ἔλαφος κρατεροῖο λέοντος
νεβροὺς κοιμήσασα νεηγενέας γαλαθηνοὺς
κνημοὺς ἐξερέῃσι καὶ ἄγκεα ποιήεντα
βοσκομένη, ὁ δʼ ἔπειτα ἑὴν εἰσήλυθεν εὐνήν,
ἀμφοτέροισι δὲ τοῖσιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφῆκεν,
340ὣς Ὀδυσεὺς κείνοισιν ἀεικέα πότμον ἐφήσει.
αἲ γάρ, Ζεῦ τε πάτερ καὶ Ἀθηναίη καὶ Ἄπολλον,
τοῖος ἐών, οἷός ποτʼ ἐυκτιμένῃ ἐνὶ Λέσβῳ
ἐξ ἔριδος Φιλομηλεΐδῃ ἐπάλαισεν ἀναστάς,
κὰδ δʼ ἔβαλε κρατερῶς, κεχάροντο δὲ πάντες Ἀχαιοί,
345τοῖος ἐὼν μνηστῆρσιν ὁμιλήσειεν Ὀδυσσεύς·
πάντες κʼ ὠκύμοροί τε γενοίατο πικρόγαμοί τε.
ταῦτα δʼ ἅ μʼ εἰρωτᾷς καὶ λίσσεαι, οὐκ ἂν ἐγώ γε
ἄλλα παρὲξ εἴποιμι παρακλιδόν, οὐδʼ ἀπατήσω,
ἀλλὰ τὰ μέν μοι ἔειπε γέρων ἅλιος νημερτής,
350τῶν οὐδέν τοι ἐγὼ κρύψω ἔπος οὐδʼ ἐπικεύσω.
332Deeply indignant, fair-haired Menelaus answered:
“How shameful! Weaklings themselves, they wanted to lie
in the bed of a strong-hearted man.
335Just as when a doe puts her newborn, milk-fed fawns
to sleep in the lair of a mighty lion
and ranges the slopes and grassy valleys
to graze, until the lion enters his own resting place
and brings a shameful death upon them both,
340so Odysseus will bring a shameful death upon those men.
If only, father Zeus, Athena, and Apollo,
Odysseus could meet the suitors as he was once in well-built Lesbos,
when he rose and wrestled Philomeleides in a contest,
threw him down with force, and all the Achaeans rejoiced.
345If Odysseus in such strength could engage the suitors,
they would all meet swift death and a bitter wedding.
As for what you ask and entreat of me, I will not
turn aside to tell you something else, nor will I deceive you.
I will tell what the unerring Old Man of the Sea told me,
350and I will hide or conceal from you not a single word.
Commentary
Menelaus condemns the suitors through a lion-and-fawns simile that imagines Odysseus returning to his own bed and inflicting death. He recalls Odysseus' strength at Lesbos, then explicitly limits himself to what Proteus told him. The promised truth therefore enters the poem as a report nested inside Menelaus' recollection, not as Menelaus' eyewitness knowledge of Odysseus.
4.332–346 Menelaus reactivates the lion's-lair threat against the suitors and adds a memory of Odysseus' bodily victory at Lesbos. The home invaded by weaker occupants becomes the lion's own resting place, so return means lethal re-entry rather than mere arrival. Menelaus' final wish repeats Athena's wording at 1.265-266 within her fuller imagined-return speech at 1.253-266; the wrestling example adds remembered prowess, while the optative framing keeps punishment desired rather than presently accomplished.
4.347–350 Menelaus defines his truth as faithful transmission of Proteus rather than direct knowledge of every return. He promises neither deviation nor concealment and names the Old Man of the Sea as his source. This declaration fixes the hierarchy for the long embedded narrative: Proteus speaks within Menelaus' past, and Menelaus now reports that speech to Telemachus.
Menelaus is stranded on Pharos and meets Eidothea 4.351–381
351Αἰγύπτῳ μʼ ἔτι δεῦρο θεοὶ μεμαῶτα νέεσθαι
ἔσχον, ἐπεὶ οὔ σφιν ἔρεξα τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας.
οἱ δʼ αἰεὶ βούλοντο θεοὶ μεμνῆσθαι ἐφετμέων.
νῆσος ἔπειτά τις ἔστι πολυκλύστῳ ἐνὶ πόντῳ
355Αἰγύπτου προπάροιθε, Φάρον δέ ἑ κικλήσκουσι,
τόσσον ἄνευθʼ ὅσσον τε πανημερίη γλαφυρὴ νηῦς
ἤνυσεν, ᾗ λιγὺς οὖρος ἐπιπνείῃσιν ὄπισθεν·
ἐν δὲ λιμὴν ἐύορμος, ὅθεν τʼ ἀπὸ νῆας ἐίσας
ἐς πόντον βάλλουσιν, ἀφυσσάμενοι μέλαν ὕδωρ.
360ἔνθα μʼ ἐείκοσιν ἤματʼ ἔχον θεοί, οὐδέ ποτʼ οὖροι
πνείοντες φαίνονθʼ ἁλιαέες, οἵ ῥά τε νηῶν
πομπῆες γίγνονται ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης.
καί νύ κεν ἤια πάντα κατέφθιτο καὶ μένεʼ ἀνδρῶν,
εἰ μή τίς με θεῶν ὀλοφύρατο καί μʼ ἐσάωσε,
365Πρωτέος ἰφθίμου θυγάτηρ ἁλίοιο γέροντος,
Εἰδοθέη· τῇ γάρ ῥα μάλιστά γε θυμὸν ὄρινα.
ἥ μʼ οἴῳ ἔρροντι συνήντετο νόσφιν ἑταίρων·
αἰεὶ γὰρ περὶ νῆσον ἀλώμενοι ἰχθυάασκον
γναμπτοῖς ἀγκίστροισιν, ἔτειρε δὲ γαστέρα λιμός.
370ἡ δέ μευ ἄγχι στᾶσα ἔπος φάτο φώνησέν τε·
νήπιός εἰς, ὦ ξεῖνε, λίην τόσον ἠδὲ χαλίφρων,
ἦε ἑκὼν μεθίεις καὶ τέρπεαι ἄλγεα πάσχων;
ὡς δὴ δήθʼ ἐνὶ νήσῳ ἐρύκεαι, οὐδέ τι τέκμωρ
εὑρέμεναι δύνασαι, μινύθει δέ τοι ἦτορ ἑταίρων.
375ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
ἐκ μέν τοι ἐρέω, ἥ τις σύ πέρ ἐσσι θεάων,
ὡς ἐγὼ οὔ τι ἑκὼν κατερύκομαι, ἀλλά νυ μέλλω
ἀθανάτους ἀλιτέσθαι, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν.
ἀλλὰ σύ πέρ μοι εἰπέ, θεοὶ δέ τε πάντα ἴσασιν,
380ὅς τίς μʼ ἀθανάτων πεδάᾳ καὶ ἔδησε κελεύθου,
νόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσομαι ἰχθυόεντα.
351The gods still held me in Egypt, though I was eager to return here,
because I had not offered them complete hecatombs.
The gods always want mortals to remember their commands.
There is an island in the wave-washed sea
355before Egypt, and they call it Pharos,
as far offshore as a hollow ship can travel in a full day
when a shrill wind blows behind her.
It has a harbor with good anchorage, from which they launch balanced ships
into the sea after drawing a supply of dark water.
360There the gods kept me twenty days, and no seaward winds
ever appeared, the winds that become escorts for ships
over the broad back of the sea.
All our provisions and the strength of the men would have perished
if one of the gods had not pitied and saved me:
365the daughter of mighty Proteus, the Old Man of the Sea—
Eidothea, whose heart I stirred more than any other.
She met me wandering alone, apart from my companions,
for they roamed the island day after day, fishing
with bent hooks, while hunger wore their bellies down.
370She stood close beside me and said:
‘Stranger, are you so great a fool and so feeble-minded,
or do you give way on purpose and take pleasure in suffering?
You have been held on this island so long and can find
no end to it, while the spirit of your companions wastes away.’
375So she spoke, and I answered her:
‘I will tell you, whichever of the goddesses you are,
that I am not held here willingly. I must have offended
the immortals who hold the broad sky.
But tell me, since the gods know everything,
380which immortal has shackled me and barred my way,
and how I will make my return over the fish-filled sea.’
Commentary
Menelaus begins the story Proteus will eventually inform: the gods hold him near Egypt because he omitted complete sacrifices. On Pharos, absent winds reduce his company to fishing and near starvation until Eidothea approaches him alone. Their embedded dialogue frames his detention as involuntary while leaving him to infer that he has offended a god.
4.351–369 Pharos is defined narratively by relation to Egypt, a day-sail measure, good anchorage, water supply, windlessness, and hunger. These details make geography operational for stranded sailors rather than decorative. The mismatch between island resources and a delayed fleet drives the men to fishing and exhaustion; the passage supports relative maritime space but not a modern coordinate or measured conversion.
4.370–381 Eidothea's accusation of foolish passivity prompts Menelaus to distinguish involuntary detention from chosen delay. Within Menelaus' present story, he quotes both the goddess and his former reply. He infers that some immortal has been offended and asks for identity and route, but he does not yet know the omitted sacrifice that Proteus will later name.
Eidothea reveals how to capture Proteus 4.382–424
382ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.
πωλεῖταί τις δεῦρο γέρων ἅλιος νημερτὴς
385ἀθάνατος Πρωτεὺς Αἰγύπτιος, ὅς τε θαλάσσης
πάσης βένθεα οἶδε, Ποσειδάωνος ὑποδμώς·
τὸν δέ τʼ ἐμόν φασιν πατέρʼ ἔμμεναι ἠδὲ τεκέσθαι.
τόν γʼ εἴ πως σὺ δύναιο λοχησάμενος λελαβέσθαι,
ὅς κέν τοι εἴπῃσιν ὁδὸν καὶ μέτρα κελεύθου
390νόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσεαι ἰχθυόεντα.
καὶ δέ κέ τοι εἴπῃσι, διοτρεφές, αἴ κʼ ἐθέλῃσθα,
ὅττι τοι ἐν μεγάροισι κακόν τʼ ἀγαθόν τε τέτυκται
οἰχομένοιο σέθεν δολιχὴν ὁδὸν ἀργαλέην τε.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
395αὐτὴ νῦν φράζευ σὺ λόχον θείοιο γέροντος,
μή πώς με προϊδὼν ἠὲ προδαεὶς ἀλέηται·
ἀργαλέος γάρ τʼ ἐστὶ θεὸς βροτῷ ἀνδρὶ δαμῆναι.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλʼ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.
400ἦμος δʼ ἠέλιος μέσον οὐρανὸν ἀμφιβεβήκῃ,
τῆμος ἄρʼ ἐξ ἁλὸς εἶσι γέρων ἅλιος νημερτὴς
πνοιῇ ὕπο Ζεφύροιο μελαίνῃ φρικὶ καλυφθείς,
ἐκ δʼ ἐλθὼν κοιμᾶται ὑπὸ σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσιν·
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν φῶκαι νέποδες καλῆς ἁλοσύδνης
405ἁθρόαι εὕδουσιν, πολιῆς ἁλὸς ἐξαναδῦσαι,
πικρὸν ἀποπνείουσαι ἁλὸς πολυβενθέος ὀδμήν.
ἔνθα σʼ ἐγὼν ἀγαγοῦσα ἅμʼ ἠοῖ φαινομένηφιν
εὐνάσω ἑξείης· σὺ δʼ ἐὺ κρίνασθαι ἑταίρους
τρεῖς, οἵ τοι παρὰ νηυσὶν ἐυσσέλμοισιν ἄριστοι.
410πάντα δέ τοι ἐρέω ὀλοφώια τοῖο γέροντος.
φώκας μέν τοι πρῶτον ἀριθμήσει καὶ ἔπεισιν·
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν πάσας πεμπάσσεται ἠδὲ ἴδηται,
λέξεται ἐν μέσσῃσι νομεὺς ὣς πώεσι μήλων.
τὸν μὲν ἐπὴν δὴ πρῶτα κατευνηθέντα ἴδησθε,
415καὶ τότʼ ἔπειθʼ ὑμῖν μελέτω κάρτος τε βίη τε,
αὖθι δʼ ἔχειν μεμαῶτα καὶ ἐσσύμενόν περ ἀλύξαι.
πάντα δὲ γιγνόμενος πειρήσεται, ὅσσʼ ἐπὶ γαῖαν
ἑρπετὰ γίγνονται, καὶ ὕδωρ καὶ θεσπιδαὲς πῦρ·
ὑμεῖς δʼ ἀστεμφέως ἐχέμεν μᾶλλόν τε πιέζειν.
420ἀλλʼ ὅτε κεν δή σʼ αὐτὸς ἀνείρηται ἐπέεσσι,
τοῖος ἐὼν οἷόν κε κατευνηθέντα ἴδησθε,
καὶ τότε δὴ σχέσθαι τε βίης λῦσαί τε γέροντα,
ἥρως, εἴρεσθαι δέ, θεῶν ὅς τίς σε χαλέπτει,
νόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσεαι ἰχθυόεντα.
382So I spoke, and the glorious goddess answered at once:
‘Stranger, I will tell you with complete precision.
An unerring Old Man of the Sea comes often to this place,
385the immortal Egyptian Proteus, who knows the depths
of the whole sea and is Poseidon's servant.
They say he is my father and gave me birth.
If you could somehow take him by ambush and seize him,
he would tell you the route and the measures of your journey,
390and how you will make your return over the fish-filled sea.
And, Zeus-nurtured king, if you wish, he would tell you
what good and evil has happened within your halls
while you have been gone on your long and painful road.’
So she spoke, and I answered her:
395‘Devise the ambush of the divine old man yourself,
so he does not see me first, learn of the plan, and escape.
A god is difficult for a mortal man to subdue.’
So I spoke, and the glorious goddess answered at once:
‘Stranger, I will tell you with complete precision.
400When the sun has climbed astride the middle of the sky,
then the unerring Old Man of the Sea comes out from the water,
covered beneath the West Wind's breath in a dark ripple.
Once ashore, he lies down beneath the hollow caves.
Around him seals, the brood of lovely Halosydne,
405come up from the gray sea and sleep crowded together,
breathing the pungent smell of the sea's deep water.
I will lead you there at the first show of dawn
and lay you in order. You must choose carefully
three companions who are best beside your well-benched ships.
410I will tell you all the old man's treacherous arts.
First he will count the seals and go among them.
When he has counted them all by fives and inspected them,
he will lie in their midst like a shepherd among flocks of sheep.
As soon as you see that he has settled into sleep,
415then let strength and force be your concern.
Hold him there, though he struggles and rushes to escape.
He will test you by taking every shape that comes to life on earth,
every crawling thing, and water, and divinely blazing fire.
You must hold him without yielding and press him harder.
420But when he himself questions you in words,
wearing the same form in which you saw him fall asleep,
then, hero, cease your force and release the old man.
Ask which god is afflicting you,
and how you will make your return over the fish-filled sea.’
Commentary
Eidothea identifies Proteus as an unerring sea-god who knows the sea's depths and can disclose both the route home and events in Menelaus' house. Because a mortal cannot easily subdue a god, she prescribes an ambush among the seals: choose three companions, endure his transformations, and release him only when he resumes his sleeping form and speaks. Information requires deception, collective force, and exact timing.
4.382–397 μέτρα κελεύθου makes Proteus' promised knowledge practical: he can state both the route and its measures or stages. Eidothea links this knowledge to the sea's depths and to events at Menelaus' absent household. Her phrasing about Proteus as father includes reported attribution, while Menelaus' reply isolates the crux of action: a mortal needs divine strategy to hold a god.
4.398–424 Eidothea's procedure converts divine mutability into a sequence with observable thresholds. Noon, cave, seal count, sleep, seizure, transformation, resumed form, question, release, and interrogation give the mortals a rule for persistence. They must resist appearances until Proteus returns to the form in which he first lay down and initiates speech.
4.411–419 Proteus' seal-counting is framed by pastoral language before the scene crosses into a universal transformation catalogue. He counts by fives and lies among seals like a shepherd among flocks, briefly imposing order on the marine herd. The diction then expands from earthborn crawling things to water and fire, making the captors' unyielding hold the repeated counter-formula to change.
The ambush beneath the sealskins 4.425–446
425ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ὑπὸ πόντον ἐδύσετο κυμαίνοντα.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆας, ὅθʼ ἕστασαν ἐν ψαμάθοισιν,
ἤια· πολλὰ δέ μοι κραδίη πόρφυρε κιόντι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,
δόρπον θʼ ὁπλισάμεσθʼ, ἐπί τʼ ἤλυθεν ἀμβροσίη νύξ·
430δὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
καὶ τότε δὴ παρὰ θῖνα θαλάσσης εὐρυπόροιο
ἤια πολλὰ θεοὺς γουνούμενος· αὐτὰρ ἑταίρους
τρεῖς ἄγον, οἷσι μάλιστα πεποίθεα πᾶσαν ἐπʼ ἰθύν.
435τόφρα δʼ ἄρʼ ἥ γʼ ὑποδῦσα θαλάσσης εὐρέα κόλπον
τέσσαρα φωκάων ἐκ πόντου δέρματʼ ἔνεικε·
πάντα δʼ ἔσαν νεόδαρτα· δόλον δʼ ἐπεμήδετο πατρί.
εὐνὰς δʼ ἐν ψαμάθοισι διαγλάψασʼ ἁλίῃσιν
ἧστο μένουσʼ· ἡμεῖς δὲ μάλα σχεδὸν ἤλθομεν αὐτῆς·
440ἑξείης δʼ εὔνησε, βάλεν δʼ ἐπὶ δέρμα ἑκάστῳ.
ἔνθα κεν αἰνότατος λόχος ἔπλετο· τεῖρε γὰρ αἰνῶς
φωκάων ἁλιοτρεφέων ὀλοώτατος ὀδμή·
τίς γάρ κʼ εἰναλίῳ παρὰ κήτεϊ κοιμηθείη;
ἀλλʼ αὐτὴ ἐσάωσε καὶ ἐφράσατο μέγʼ ὄνειαρ·
445ἀμβροσίην ὑπὸ ῥῖνα ἑκάστῳ θῆκε φέρουσα
ἡδὺ μάλα πνείουσαν, ὄλεσσε δὲ κήτεος ὀδμήν.
425With this she plunged beneath the surging sea.
I went back to the ships where they stood on the sand,
and many dark thoughts surged in my heart as I went.
When I came down to the ship and the sea,
we prepared supper, and ambrosial night came on.
430Then we lay down beside the breaking surf.
When early-born Dawn appeared, rosy-fingered,
I set out along the shore of the broad-pathed sea,
praying earnestly to the gods. I brought the three companions
whom I trusted most for every undertaking.
435Meanwhile she plunged beneath the broad bay of the sea
and brought out four sealskins from the water,
all freshly flayed, devising a trick against her father.
She hollowed out resting places in the sand
and sat waiting. We came very close to her,
440and she laid us down in order and threw a skin over each man.
There the ambush might have proved unbearable, for the deadly stench
of the sea-fed seals tormented us terribly.
Who could sleep beside a creature of the sea?
But she herself saved us and devised a powerful remedy:
445she brought ambrosia and placed it beneath each man's nose,
sweetly fragrant, and destroyed the creature's stench.
Commentary
After a night of dark thought, Menelaus returns at dawn with three trusted companions. Eidothea brings freshly flayed sealskins and hides the men in ordered hollows, turning unbearable stench into an obstacle she herself remedies with ambrosia. The episode joins divine planning to mortal bodily endurance before Proteus even appears.
4.425–430 Eidothea's descent is followed by a compact return-to-ship, supper, night, and shore-sleep sequence that will recur after Proteus' departure. The repeated pattern brackets the divine encounter with ordinary shipboard needs while κραδίη πόρφυρε marks Menelaus' unsettled inward motion. Later recurrence after the prophecy makes the same route carry altered knowledge rather than serving as inert repetition.
4.431–446 The ambush requires prayer, trusted companions, fresh sealskins, bodily concealment, and a divine remedy for smell. Menelaus does not simply execute a clever plan; he approaches while supplicating the gods and chooses three men he trusts for every undertaking. Eidothea's aid remains indispensable because mortal endurance alone cannot overcome the physical conditions she has created.
Proteus transforms and is held fast 4.447–470
447πᾶσαν δʼ ἠοίην μένομεν τετληότι θυμῷ·
φῶκαι δʼ ἐξ ἁλὸς ἦλθον ἀολλέες. αἱ μὲν ἔπειτα
ἑξῆς εὐνάζοντο παρὰ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης·
450ἔνδιος δʼ ὁ γέρων ἦλθʼ ἐξ ἁλός, εὗρε δὲ φώκας
ζατρεφέας, πάσας δʼ ἄρʼ ἐπῴχετο, λέκτο δʼ ἀριθμόν·
ἐν δʼ ἡμέας πρώτους λέγε κήτεσιν, οὐδέ τι θυμῷ
ὠΐσθη δόλον εἶναι· ἔπειτα δὲ λέκτο καὶ αὐτός.
ἡμεῖς δὲ ἰάχοντες ἐπεσσύμεθʼ, ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρας
455βάλλομεν· οὐδʼ ὁ γέρων δολίης ἐπελήθετο τέχνης,
ἀλλʼ ἦ τοι πρώτιστα λέων γένετʼ ἠυγένειος,
αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα δράκων καὶ πάρδαλις ἠδὲ μέγας σῦς·
γίγνετο δʼ ὑγρὸν ὕδωρ καὶ δένδρεον ὑψιπέτηλον·
ἡμεῖς δʼ ἀστεμφέως ἔχομεν τετληότι θυμῷ.
460ἀλλʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἀνίαζʼ ὁ γέρων ὀλοφώια εἰδώς,
καὶ τότε δή μʼ ἐπέεσσιν ἀνειρόμενος προσέειπε·
τίς νύ τοι, Ἀτρέος υἱέ, θεῶν συμφράσσατο βουλάς,
ὄφρα μʼ ἕλοις ἀέκοντα λοχησάμενος; τέο σε χρή;
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
465οἶσθα, γέρον, τί με ταῦτα παρατροπέων ἐρεείνεις;
ὡς δὴ δήθʼ ἐνὶ νήσῳ ἐρύκομαι, οὐδέ τι τέκμωρ
εὑρέμεναι δύναμαι, μινύθει δέ μοι ἔνδοθεν ἦτορ.
ἀλλὰ σύ πέρ μοι εἰπέ, θεοὶ δέ τε πάντα ἴσασιν,
ὅς τίς μʼ ἀθανάτων πεδάᾳ καὶ ἔδησε κελεύθου,
470νόστον θʼ, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσομαι ἰχθυόεντα.
447All morning we waited with enduring hearts.
The seals came out from the sea in a crowd, and then
lay down in rows beside the breaking surf.
450At noon the old man came from the sea, found the well-fed seals,
went among them all, and counted their number.
He counted us first among the creatures, never suspecting
a trick in his heart; then he too lay down.
We rushed upon him with a shout and threw our arms around him,
455but the old man had not forgotten his cunning art.
First he became a well-maned lion,
then a serpent, a leopard, and a great boar.
He became flowing water and a high-crowned tree,
but we held him without yielding, with enduring hearts.
460When at last the old man skilled in treacherous arts grew distressed,
he questioned me and said:
‘Son of Atreus, which god devised this plan with you,
so you could take me unwilling by ambush? What do you need?’
So he spoke, and I answered him:
465‘You know, old man. Why question me and try to turn me aside?
I have been held on this island so long and can find
no end to it, while my spirit wastes away within me.
But tell me, since the gods know everything,
which immortal has shackled me and barred my way,
470and how I will make my return over the fish-filled sea.’
Commentary
Proteus counts the disguised men among his seals and lies down. They seize him, and he becomes lion, serpent, leopard, boar, water, and tree, but their grip survives each change. Once he returns to stable speech, he asks which god designed the ambush; Menelaus refuses diversion and repeats his demand to know the divine barrier to return.
4.447–459 The enacted ambush follows Eidothea's thresholds closely while adding the captors' shout and Proteus' exact sequence of forms. Waiting lasts the whole morning, the seals assemble, Proteus counts, and the men are initially accepted as part of the herd. Lion, serpent, leopard, boar, water, and tree test different kinds of grip, but the repeated endurance phrase keeps the mortal group narratively continuous.
4.456–459 Proteus' forms accelerate through compact coordination before the line of flowing water and high tree widens the scale. The animal sequence piles one transformation after another, then the final pair crosses from creature to element and plant. The following line's return to the captors' fixed endurance supplies an audible stop; the observation remains selective rather than a full scansion.
4.460–470 Menelaus treats Proteus' question as παρατροπέων, an attempt to turn him aside from the information he seeks. Proteus asks which god helped and what Menelaus needs, but Menelaus answers that the god already knows. He repeats the language of being shackled and barred from the route, preserving his demand's structure while reversing who now controls the interrogation.
Proteus prescribes the return to Egypt 4.471–490
471ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
ἀλλὰ μάλʼ ὤφελλες Διί τʼ ἄλλοισίν τε θεοῖσι
ῥέξας ἱερὰ κάλʼ ἀναβαινέμεν, ὄφρα τάχιστα
σὴν ἐς πατρίδʼ ἵκοιο πλέων ἐπὶ οἴνοπα πόντον.
475οὐ γάρ τοι πρὶν μοῖρα φίλους τʼ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι
οἶκον ἐυκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν,
πρίν γʼ ὅτʼ ἂν Αἰγύπτοιο, διιπετέος ποταμοῖο,
αὖτις ὕδωρ ἔλθῃς ῥέξῃς θʼ ἱερὰς ἑκατόμβας
ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι·
480καὶ τότε τοι δώσουσιν ὁδὸν θεοί, ἣν σὺ μενοινᾷς.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γε κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ,
οὕνεκά μʼ αὖτις ἄνωγεν ἐπʼ ἠεροειδέα πόντον
Αἴγυπτόνδʼ ἰέναι, δολιχὴν ὁδὸν ἀργαλέην τε.
ἀλλὰ καὶ ὣς μύθοισιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον·
485ταῦτα μὲν οὕτω δὴ τελέω, γέρον, ὡς σὺ κελεύεις.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον,
ἢ πάντες σὺν νηυσὶν ἀπήμονες ἦλθον Ἀχαιοί,
οὓς Νέστωρ καὶ ἐγὼ λίπομεν Τροίηθεν ἰόντες,
ἦέ τις ὤλετʼ ὀλέθρῳ ἀδευκέι ἧς ἐπὶ νηὸς
490ἠὲ φίλων ἐν χερσίν, ἐπεὶ πόλεμον τολύπευσεν.
471So I spoke, and he answered me at once:
‘You should first have made fine sacrifices to Zeus and the other gods
before embarking, so that you might reach
your native land as quickly as possible over the wine-dark sea.
475It is not your allotted portion to see your friends and reach
your well-built house and native land
before you return once more to the waters of Egypt's sky-fed river
and offer sacred hecatombs
to the immortal gods who hold the broad sky.
480Then the gods will grant you the journey you desire.’
So he spoke, and my heart broke within me
because he ordered me to go back over the mist-dark sea
to Egypt on a long and painful road.
Even so, I answered him:
485‘I will fulfill all this as you command, old man.
But come, tell me this and give me the precise account:
did all the Achaeans return safely with their ships,
the men Nestor and I left when we sailed from Troy,
or did someone perish by a cruel death aboard his own ship
490or in the arms of friends after he had wound the war to its end?’
Commentary
Proteus states that Menelaus should have sacrificed before sailing and cannot reach home until he returns to Egypt's river and completes the rites. Menelaus' heart breaks at the renewed route, yet he accepts the command and asks a further question about the Achaeans left after Troy. Ritual repair becomes the condition of his return, while grief drives inquiry beyond his own survival.
4.471–480 Proteus diagnoses the delay as failure to sacrifice before sailing and prescribes complete offerings at Egypt's river. The requirement is temporally precise: return cannot be completed until Menelaus retraces the route and repairs the omitted relation with Zeus and the other gods. Ritual action does not replace sailing skill; it restores the divine permission under which the desired route can operate.
4.481–490 Menelaus accepts the painful return route and immediately broadens his inquiry from personal nostos to communal loss. His broken heart registers the cost of obedience, but his next words promise compliance rather than bargaining. The question distinguishes safe arrival, death aboard ship, and death among friends after war, preparing Proteus to classify returns rather than tell one undifferentiated disaster.
Proteus recounts Ajax's death 4.491–511
491ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
Ἀτρεΐδη, τί με ταῦτα διείρεαι; οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ
ἴδμεναι, οὐδὲ δαῆναι ἐμὸν νόον· οὐδέ σέ φημι
δὴν ἄκλαυτον ἔσεσθαι, ἐπὴν ἐὺ πάντα πύθηαι.
495πολλοὶ μὲν γὰρ τῶν γε δάμεν, πολλοὶ δὲ λίποντο·
ἀρχοὶ δʼ αὖ δύο μοῦνοι Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων
ἐν νόστῳ ἀπόλοντο· μάχῃ δέ τε καὶ σὺ παρῆσθα.
εἷς δʼ ἔτι που ζωὸς κατερύκεται εὐρέι πόντῳ.
Αἴας μὲν μετὰ νηυσὶ δάμη δολιχηρέτμοισι.
500Γυρῇσίν μιν πρῶτα Ποσειδάων ἐπέλασσεν
πέτρῃσιν μεγάλῃσι καὶ ἐξεσάωσε θαλάσσης·
καί νύ κεν ἔκφυγε κῆρα καὶ ἐχθόμενός περ Ἀθήνῃ,
εἰ μὴ ὑπερφίαλον ἔπος ἔκβαλε καὶ μέγʼ ἀάσθη·
φῆ ῥʼ ἀέκητι θεῶν φυγέειν μέγα λαῖτμα θαλάσσης.
505τοῦ δὲ Ποσειδάων μεγάλʼ ἔκλυεν αὐδήσαντος·
αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτα τρίαιναν ἑλὼν χερσὶ στιβαρῇσιν
ἤλασε Γυραίην πέτρην, ἀπὸ δʼ ἔσχισεν αὐτήν·
καὶ τὸ μὲν αὐτόθι μεῖνε, τὸ δὲ τρύφος ἔμπεσε πόντῳ,
τῷ ῥʼ Αἴας τὸ πρῶτον ἐφεζόμενος μέγʼ ἀάσθη·
510τὸν δʼ ἐφόρει κατὰ πόντον ἀπείρονα κυμαίνοντα.
ὣς ὁ μὲν ἔνθʼ ἀπόλωλεν, ἐπεὶ πίεν ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ.
491So I spoke, and he answered me at once:
‘Son of Atreus, why ask me this? You have no need
to know or learn the contents of my mind.
I tell you, you will not remain tearless long once you hear everything clearly.
495Many of them were killed, and many were left alive.
Only two leaders of the bronze-clad Achaeans
died during the return; you yourself were present for the fighting.
One man still lives but is held somewhere on the broad sea.
Ajax was overcome among his long-oared ships.
500Poseidon first drove him onto the great rocks
of Gyrae and saved him from the sea.
He would have escaped death, though Athena hated him,
if he had not cast out an overbearing word and become greatly deluded.
He claimed that he had escaped the sea's great gulf against the gods' will.
505Poseidon heard his loud boast.
At once he took the trident in his powerful hands
and struck the Gyraean rock, splitting it apart.
One part stayed in place, but the fragment fell into the sea—
the piece on which Ajax had first sat in his great delusion—
510and it carried him down the boundless, surging sea.
So he died there after swallowing the salt water.
Commentary
Proteus distinguishes those killed, those surviving, and three leaders central to the report. Ajax first survives shipwreck through Poseidon's action despite Athena's hostility, but his boast that he escaped against divine will provokes Poseidon to split the rock beneath him. Rescue, hatred, speech, delusion, and punishment remain separate steps in the reported causation.
4.491–511 Ajax's death follows a layered sequence in which divine rescue is overturned after his overbearing claim of independence from the gods. Poseidon first saves Ajax from the sea, and Athena's hostility does not prevent that escape. The boast then becomes the immediate provocation for Poseidon's renewed action; the report preserves help, enmity, delusion, speech, and punishment as distinct contributors.
4.499–511 The repeated language of great delusion encloses Ajax's boast between temporary safety and the rock's destruction. Ajax is said to fall into delusion when he speaks and again when the fragment bearing him enters the sea. The recurrence makes the boast more than incidental dialogue while the final salt-water death gives physical closure to a nostos briefly rescued.
Proteus recounts Agamemnon's murder 4.512–537
512σὸς δέ που ἔκφυγε κῆρας ἀδελφεὸς ἠδʼ ὑπάλυξεν
ἐν νηυσὶ γλαφυρῇσι· σάωσε δὲ πότνια Ἥρη.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ τάχʼ ἔμελλε Μαλειάων ὄρος αἰπὺ
515ἵξεσθαι, τότε δή μιν ἀναρπάξασα θύελλα
πόντον ἐπʼ ἰχθυόεντα φέρεν βαρέα στενάχοντα,
ἀγροῦ ἐπʼ ἐσχατιήν, ὅθι δώματα ναῖε Θυέστης
τὸ πρίν, ἀτὰρ τότʼ ἔναιε Θυεστιάδης Αἴγισθος.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ καὶ κεῖθεν ἐφαίνετο νόστος ἀπήμων,
520ἂψ δὲ θεοὶ οὖρον στρέψαν, καὶ οἴκαδʼ ἵκοντο,
ἦ τοι ὁ μὲν χαίρων ἐπεβήσετο πατρίδος αἴης
καὶ κύνει ἁπτόμενος ἣν πατρίδα· πολλὰ δʼ ἀπʼ αὐτοῦ
δάκρυα θερμὰ χέοντʼ, ἐπεὶ ἀσπασίως ἴδε γαῖαν.
τὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ἀπὸ σκοπιῆς εἶδε σκοπός, ὅν ῥα καθεῖσεν
525Αἴγισθος δολόμητις ἄγων, ὑπὸ δʼ ἔσχετο μισθὸν
χρυσοῦ δοιὰ τάλαντα· φύλασσε δʼ ὅ γʼ εἰς ἐνιαυτόν,
μή ἑ λάθοι παριών, μνήσαιτο δὲ θούριδος ἀλκῆς.
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἀγγελέων πρὸς δώματα ποιμένι λαῶν.
αὐτίκα δʼ Αἴγισθος δολίην ἐφράσσατο τέχνην·
530κρινάμενος κατὰ δῆμον ἐείκοσι φῶτας ἀρίστους
εἷσε λόχον, ἑτέρωθι δʼ ἀνώγει δαῖτα πένεσθαι.
αὐτὰρ ὁ βῆ καλέων Ἀγαμέμνονα, ποιμένα λαῶν
ἵπποισιν καὶ ὄχεσφιν, ἀεικέα μερμηρίζων.
τὸν δʼ οὐκ εἰδότʼ ὄλεθρον ἀνήγαγε καὶ κατέπεφνεν
535δειπνίσσας, ὥς τίς τε κατέκτανε βοῦν ἐπὶ φάτνῃ.
οὐδέ τις Ἀτρεΐδεω ἑτάρων λίπεθʼ οἵ οἱ ἕποντο,
οὐδέ τις Αἰγίσθου, ἀλλʼ ἔκταθεν ἐν μεγάροισιν.
512Your brother escaped the fates and got away
in his hollow ships, for lady Hera saved him.
But when he was soon to reach the steep height of Malea,
515a storm snatched him up
and carried him, groaning heavily, over the fish-filled sea
to the far edge of the land where Thyestes once had his house
but where Aegisthus, son of Thyestes, was living then.
Yet even from there his return appeared safe:
520the gods turned the wind back, and they reached home.
Rejoicing, he stepped onto his native land
and clung to the earth and kissed it. Many hot
tears streamed from him when he gladly saw the land.
But a lookout saw him from his watch post, a man whom cunning Aegisthus
525had stationed there after promising him a fee
for a payment of two talents of gold. He watched for a full year
so Agamemnon would not pass unseen and remember his furious strength.
The man went to the house to bring word to the shepherd of the people.
At once Aegisthus devised his treacherous art.
530He chose the twenty best men in the district
and set an ambush, while elsewhere he ordered a feast prepared.
Then he went to invite Agamemnon, shepherd of the people,
with horses and chariots, while planning shameful deeds.
He led up the man who knew nothing of his destruction and killed him
535after giving him dinner, as one kills an ox at its manger.
Not one companion of the son of Atreus who followed him survived,
nor one of Aegisthus' men; all were killed in the halls.’
Commentary
Agamemnon survives the sea with Hera's help and reaches his homeland rejoicing, only to enter an ambush prepared over a year by Aegisthus. A paid lookout, selected fighters, an invitation, and a feast convert homecoming into slaughter. Proteus' version concentrates on Aegisthus' planning and on the annihilation of Agamemnon's companions and Aegisthus' participating men in the hall; Aegisthus himself remains alive for Orestes to kill later.
4.512–523 Agamemnon's return appears repeatedly safe before the land itself becomes the threshold of murder. Hera saves the ships, the gods restore the wind, and Agamemnon kisses his native earth through tears. Proteus allows this joy full narrative weight before revealing the lookout, so homecoming is not absent but violently reversed after arrival.
4.524–537 Proteus' version makes Aegisthus' murder a long-prepared human operation built from surveillance, payment, selection, invitation, and ambush. The lookout waits a year under a promised fee, twenty men are chosen, and hospitality is counterfeited as a feast before slaughter. All of Agamemnon's companions and all of Aegisthus' participating men are killed in the hall, but the agency is not symmetrical: Aegisthus designed the trap and survives until Orestes kills him, as 4.546-547 confirms.
Proteus reveals Odysseus' captivity and Menelaus' destiny 4.538–570
538ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γε κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ,
κλαῖον δʼ ἐν ψαμάθοισι καθήμενος, οὐδέ νύ μοι κῆρ
540ἤθελʼ ἔτι ζώειν καὶ ὁρᾶν φάος ἠελίοιο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κλαίων τε κυλινδόμενός τε κορέσθην,
δὴ τότε με προσέειπε γέρων ἅλιος νημερτής·
μηκέτι, Ἀτρέος υἱέ, πολὺν χρόνον ἀσκελὲς οὕτω
κλαῖʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἄνυσίν τινα δήομεν· ἀλλὰ τάχιστα
545πείρα ὅπως κεν δὴ σὴν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἵκηαι.
ἢ γάρ μιν ζωόν γε κιχήσεαι, ἤ κεν Ὀρέστης
κτεῖνεν ὑποφθάμενος, σὺ δέ κεν τάφου ἀντιβολήσαις.
ὣς ἔφατʼ, αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ κραδίη καὶ θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ
αὖτις ἐνὶ στήθεσσι καὶ ἀχνυμένῳ περ ἰάνθη,
550καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·
τούτους μὲν δὴ οἶδα· σὺ δὲ τρίτον ἄνδρʼ ὀνόμαζε,
ὅς τις ἔτι ζωὸς κατερύκεται εὐρέι πόντῳ
ἠὲ θανών· ἐθέλω δὲ καὶ ἀχνύμενός περ ἀκοῦσαι.
ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μʼ αὐτίκʼ ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν·
555υἱὸς Λαέρτεω, Ἰθάκῃ ἔνι οἰκία ναίων·
τὸν δʼ ἴδον ἐν νήσῳ θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντα,
νύμφης ἐν μεγάροισι Καλυψοῦς, ἥ μιν ἀνάγκῃ
ἴσχει· ὁ δʼ οὐ δύναται ἣν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι·
οὐ γάρ οἱ πάρα νῆες ἐπήρετμοι καὶ ἑταῖροι,
560οἵ κέν μιν πέμποιεν ἐπʼ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης.
σοὶ δʼ οὐ θέσφατόν ἐστι, διοτρεφὲς ὦ Μενέλαε,
Ἄργει ἐν ἱπποβότῳ θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν,
ἀλλά σʼ ἐς Ἠλύσιον πεδίον καὶ πείρατα γαίης
ἀθάνατοι πέμψουσιν, ὅθι ξανθὸς Ῥαδάμανθυς,
565τῇ περ ῥηίστη βιοτὴ πέλει ἀνθρώποισιν·
οὐ νιφετός, οὔτʼ ἂρ χειμὼν πολὺς οὔτε ποτʼ ὄμβρος,
ἀλλʼ αἰεὶ Ζεφύροιο λιγὺ πνείοντος ἀήτας
Ὠκεανὸς ἀνίησιν ἀναψύχειν ἀνθρώπους·
οὕνεκʼ ἔχεις Ἑλένην καί σφιν γαμβρὸς Διός ἐσσι.
570ὣς εἰπὼν ὑπὸ πόντον ἐδύσετο κυμαίνοντα.
538So he spoke, and my heart broke within me.
I sat on the sand and wept; my heart no longer
540wished to live or look upon the sunlight.
But when I had my fill of weeping and rolling on the ground,
the unerring Old Man of the Sea addressed me:
‘Son of Atreus, do not keep weeping helplessly like this
for a long time, since we will accomplish nothing by it. Instead, quickly
545try to reach your native land.
Either you will find Aegisthus alive, or Orestes
will have killed him before you, and you may arrive for the funeral.’
So he spoke, and my heart and proud spirit,
though still grieving, grew warm again within my chest.
550I addressed him with winged words:
‘Now I know these two. Name the third man,
the one who still lives but is held somewhere on the broad sea—
or is dead. Though it grieves me, I wish to hear.’
So I spoke, and he answered me at once:
555‘The son of Laertes, whose house is in Ithaca.
I saw him on an island, shedding abundant tears
in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who keeps him there
by force. He cannot reach his native land,
for he has no oared ships or companions
560to escort him over the broad back of the sea.
As for you, Zeus-nurtured Menelaus, it is not ordained
that you die and meet your fate in horse-pasturing Argos.
The immortals will send you to the Elysian plain at the ends of the earth,
where fair-haired Rhadamanthus dwells
565and life is easiest for human beings.
There is no snow, no heavy winter, and never rain,
but Ocean continually sends up the West Wind's
shrill-blowing breezes to refresh its people.
This is because you have Helen and are therefore a son-in-law of Zeus.’
570With this he plunged beneath the surging sea.
Commentary
Menelaus collapses in grief until Proteus redirects him toward home and the possibility that Orestes has already acted against Aegisthus. Menelaus then insists on hearing of the third man: Proteus reports Odysseus alive, weeping, and forcibly held by Calypso without ship or crew. The report continues into prophecy, assigning Menelaus an easy life at the world's edge because of his marriage to Helen.
4.538–550 Proteus limits grief by redirecting Menelaus toward action and an uncertain race with Orestes. Menelaus first exhausts himself in tears and rolling on the sand, then hears that prolonged helpless lament accomplishes nothing. The alternatives—find Aegisthus alive or reach his funeral after Orestes acts—restore warmth without removing grief or guaranteeing Menelaus a role in vengeance.
4.551–560 Menelaus chooses painful knowledge, and Proteus answers with the book's decisive report that Odysseus lives under force. The question allows life or death, but Proteus identifies the son of Laertes, says he saw him weeping, and names Calypso's compulsion and the absence of ship and companions. The report separates inability from unwillingness: Odysseus cannot reach home under these conditions.
4.561–570 Proteus assigns Menelaus an exceptional destiny: the immortals will send him to the Elysian plain because marriage to Helen makes him Zeus' son-in-law. The prophecy contrasts dying and meeting fate in Argos with divine translation to the Elysian plain, where life is easiest and Ocean sends refreshing wind. The cause is relational, not earned martial merit in this speech: Menelaus has Helen and therefore divine affinity; the Greek does not state that he first dies or enters Elysium postmortem.
Menelaus returns through Egypt 4.571–586
571αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆας ἅμʼ ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισιν
ἤια, πολλὰ δέ μοι κραδίη πόρφυρε κιόντι.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλθομεν ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,
δόρπον θʼ ὁπλισάμεσθʼ, ἐπί τʼ ἤλυθεν ἀμβροσίη νύξ,
575δὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.
ἦμος δʼ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
νῆας μὲν πάμπρωτον ἐρύσσαμεν εἰς ἅλα δῖαν,
ἐν δʼ ἱστοὺς τιθέμεσθα καὶ ἱστία νηυσὶν ἐίσῃς,
ἂν δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βάντες ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον·
580ἑξῆς δʼ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.
ἂψ δʼ εἰς Αἰγύπτοιο διιπετέος ποταμοῖο
στῆσα νέας, καὶ ἔρεξα τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κατέπαυσα θεῶν χόλον αἰὲν ἐόντων,
χεῦʼ Ἀγαμέμνονι τύμβον, ἵνʼ ἄσβεστον κλέος εἴη.
585ταῦτα τελευτήσας νεόμην, ἔδοσαν δέ μοι οὖρον
ἀθάνατοι, τοί μʼ ὦκα φίλην ἐς πατρίδʼ ἔπεμψαν.
571I went back to the ships with my godlike companions,
and many dark thoughts surged in my heart as I went.
When we came down to the ship and the sea,
we prepared supper, and ambrosial night came on.
575Then we lay down beside the breaking surf.
When early-born Dawn appeared, rosy-fingered,
first we dragged the ships into the shining sea,
set the masts and sails in the balanced vessels,
and climbed aboard ourselves to sit at the rowlocks.
580Seated in order, the men struck the gray sea with their oars.
I brought the ships back to the waters of Egypt's sky-fed river
and offered complete hecatombs.
When I had appeased the anger of the everlasting gods,
I heaped a mound for Agamemnon, so that his renown would never die.
585After accomplishing this I returned, and the immortals gave me a wind
that quickly carried me to my dear native land.
Commentary
Menelaus returns to the ships, sails back to Egypt's river, completes the sacrifices, and raises a mound for Agamemnon before the gods grant a homeward wind. His obedience closes the embedded return story by joining ritual repair to memorial action. The repeated shore, night, dawn, rowing, and sacrifice sequence turns prophetic instruction into performed nostos.
4.571–586 The repeated return-to-ships, supper, night, dawn, launch, and rowing sequence now carries fulfilled instruction rather than uncertainty. Earlier repetition enclosed the planned ambush of Proteus; here it moves Menelaus toward Egypt, sacrifice, memorial, and a divinely granted wind. Formulaic recurrence thus registers changed narrative state while preserving the labor of travel.
4.581–586 Menelaus completes both divine and human obligations before receiving the wind home. The hecatombs appease the gods' lasting anger, while Agamemnon's mound aims at unquenchable kleos. Sacrifice and memorial are distinct acts in sequence; only after both does the narrative state that the immortals grant the favorable wind.
Telemachus declines the horses and receives a mixing bowl 4.587–619
587ἀλλʼ ἄγε νῦν ἐπίμεινον ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἐμοῖσιν,
ὄφρα κεν ἑνδεκάτη τε δυωδεκάτη τε γένηται·
καὶ τότε σʼ εὖ πέμψω, δώσω δέ τοι ἀγλαὰ δῶρα,
590τρεῖς ἵππους καὶ δίφρον ἐύξοον· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
δώσω καλὸν ἄλεισον, ἵνα σπένδῃσθα θεοῖσιν
ἀθανάτοις ἐμέθεν μεμνημένος ἤματα πάντα.
τὸν δʼ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα·
Ἀτρεΐδη, μὴ δή με πολὺν χρόνον ἐνθάδʼ ἔρυκε.
595καὶ γάρ κʼ εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν ἐγὼ παρὰ σοί γʼ ἀνεχοίμην
ἥμενος, οὐδέ κέ μʼ οἴκου ἕλοι πόθος οὐδὲ τοκήων·
αἰνῶς γὰρ μύθοισιν ἔπεσσί τε σοῖσιν ἀκούων
τέρπομαι. ἀλλʼ ἤδη μοι ἀνιάζουσιν ἑταῖροι
ἐν Πύλῳ ἠγαθέῃ· σὺ δέ με χρόνον ἐνθάδʼ ἐρύκεις.
600δῶρον δʼ ὅττι κέ μοι δοίης, κειμήλιον ἔστω·
ἵππους δʼ εἰς Ἰθάκην οὐκ ἄξομαι, ἀλλὰ σοὶ αὐτῷ
ἐνθάδε λείψω ἄγαλμα· σὺ γὰρ πεδίοιο ἀνάσσεις
εὐρέος, ᾧ ἔνι μὲν λωτὸς πολύς, ἐν δὲ κύπειρον
πυροί τε ζειαί τε ἰδʼ εὐρυφυὲς κρῖ λευκόν.
605ἐν δʼ Ἰθάκῃ οὔτʼ ἂρ δρόμοι εὐρέες οὔτε τι λειμών·
αἰγίβοτος, καὶ μᾶλλον ἐπήρατος ἱπποβότοιο.
οὐ γάρ τις νήσων ἱππήλατος οὐδʼ ἐυλείμων,
αἵ θʼ ἁλὶ κεκλίαται· Ἰθάκη δέ τε καὶ περὶ πασέων.
ὣς φάτο, μείδησεν δὲ βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος,
610χειρί τέ μιν κατέρεξεν ἔπος τʼ ἔφατʼ ἔκ τʼ ὀνόμαζεν·
αἵματός εἰς ἀγαθοῖο, φίλον τέκος, οἷʼ ἀγορεύεις·
τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι ταῦτα μεταστήσω· δύναμαι γάρ.
δώρων δʼ ὅσσʼ ἐν ἐμῷ οἴκῳ κειμήλια κεῖται,
δώσω ὃ κάλλιστον καὶ τιμηέστατόν ἐστιν·
615δώσω τοι κρητῆρα τετυγμένον· ἀργύρεος δὲ
ἔστιν ἅπας, χρυσῷ δʼ ἐπὶ χείλεα κεκράανται,
ἔργον δʼ Ἡφαίστοιο. πόρεν δέ ἑ Φαίδιμος ἥρως,
Σιδονίων βασιλεύς, ὅθʼ ἑὸς δόμος ἀμφεκάλυψε
κεῖσέ με νοστήσαντα· τεῒν δʼ ἐθέλω τόδʼ ὀπάσσαι.
587But come now, remain within my halls
until the eleventh or twelfth day comes.
Then I will send you off well and give you splendid gifts:
590three horses and a finely polished chariot. Then
I will give you a fine cup for pouring libations
to the immortal gods, remembering me all your days.”
Discerning Telemachus answered him face to face:
“Son of Atreus, do not keep me here for a long time.
595I could remain beside you even for a year,
and no longing for home or parents would seize me,
so greatly do I delight in listening to your stories and words.
But already my companions are growing restless
in sacred Pylos, while you keep me here.
600Whatever gift you give me, let it be a treasured heirloom.
I will not take horses to Ithaca; I will leave them here
as an ornament for you, since you rule a broad plain
where lotus grows thick, along with sedge,
wheat, spelt, and broad-growing white barley.
605In Ithaca there are neither broad courses nor any meadow.
It is a land for goats, yet more pleasing than land that feeds horses.
None of the islands lying out in the sea
is fit for driving horses or rich in meadows, and Ithaca least of all.”
So he spoke, and Menelaus, skilled in the war cry, smiled,
610stroked him with his hand, and addressed him by name:
“Dear child, your words show that you come from noble blood.
So I will change the gifts for you; I have the power.
Of all the treasures stored in my house,
I will give you the finest and most honored:
615a mixing bowl of finished workmanship, made entirely
of silver, with its rim joined in gold,
a work of Hephaestus. The hero Phaedimus gave it to me,
king of the Sidonians, when his house sheltered me
there on my return. I wish to give it now to you.”
Commentary
Menelaus invites a long stay and offers horses, chariot, and libation cup. Telemachus praises the host's speech but declines delay and explains that Ithaca lacks broad courses and meadow, is goat-pasturing, and is unsuitable for horses. Menelaus smiles at this practical judgment and substitutes an heirloom mixing bowl whose own chain of hospitality reaches back through Sidon.
4.587–600 Gift exchange begins as an offer of prolonged residence and mobile prestige, but Telemachus negotiates both duration and object. Menelaus proposes eleven or twelve days, horses, chariot, and cup; Telemachus responds with praise yet remembers companions waiting at Pylos. His request for a κειμήλιον shifts value from immediate transport to a stored heirloom suited to durable guest-friendship.
4.600–608 Telemachus evaluates the horses through Ithaca's terrain and agricultural capacity rather than rejecting Menelaus' generosity. The Spartan plain is described through fodder and grain, whereas Ithaca lacks broad courses and meadow and is better for goats than horses. The contrast displays practical local knowledge and preserves the host's honor by making unsuitable ecology, not insufficient value, the reason for refusal.
4.609–619 Menelaus treats Telemachus' refusal as evidence of noble judgment and adapts the gift without resentment. Touch and smile precede the substitution, keeping affection visible. The silver-and-gold mixing bowl is both divine craft and a prior host's gift to Menelaus, so its transfer extends a chain of shelter and remembrance rather than merely replacing horses with a portable luxury.
Noemon asks the suitors for his ship 4.620–637
620ὣς οἱ μὲν τοιαῦτα πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀγόρευον,
δαιτυμόνες δʼ ἐς δώματʼ ἴσαν θείου βασιλῆος.
οἱ δʼ ἦγον μὲν μῆλα, φέρον δʼ ἐυήνορα οἶνον·
σῖτον δέ σφʼ ἄλοχοι καλλικρήδεμνοι ἔπεμπον.
ὣς οἱ μὲν περὶ δεῖπνον ἐνὶ μεγάροισι πένοντο.
625μνηστῆρες δὲ πάροιθεν Ὀδυσσῆος μεγάροιο
δίσκοισιν τέρποντο καὶ αἰγανέῃσιν ἱέντες
ἐν τυκτῷ δαπέδῳ, ὅθι περ πάρος, ὕβριν ἔχοντες.
Ἀντίνοος δὲ καθῆστο καὶ Εὐρύμαχος θεοειδής,
ἀρχοὶ μνηστήρων, ἀρετῇ δʼ ἔσαν ἔξοχʼ ἄριστοι.
630τοῖς δʼ υἱὸς Φρονίοιο Νοήμων ἐγγύθεν ἐλθὼν
Ἀντίνοον μύθοισιν ἀνειρόμενος προσέειπεν·
Ἀντίνοʼ, ἦ ῥά τι ἴδμεν ἐνὶ φρεσίν, ἦε καὶ οὐκί,
ὁππότε Τηλέμαχος νεῖτʼ ἐκ Πύλου ἠμαθόεντος;
νῆά μοι οἴχετʼ ἄγων· ἐμὲ δὲ χρεὼ γίγνεται αὐτῆς
635Ἤλιδʼ ἐς εὐρύχορον διαβήμεναι, ἔνθα μοι ἵπποι
δώδεκα θήλειαι, ὑπὸ δʼ ἡμίονοι ταλαεργοὶ
ἀδμῆτες· τῶν κέν τινʼ ἐλασσάμενος δαμασαίμην.
620So the two spoke in this way to one another.
The banqueters came into the house of the divine king.
They drove in sheep and brought man-strengthening wine,
while their wives with beautiful headbands sent them bread.
So they busied themselves with supper in the halls.
625Meanwhile the suitors before Odysseus' house
were delighting in discus throws and casting javelins
on the paved court where they had played before, full of violence.
Antinous sat there with godlike Eurymachus,
leaders of the suitors and by far the best in prowess.
630Noemon, son of Phronius, came close to them
and questioned Antinous:
“Antinous, do we know in our hearts, or not,
when Telemachus will return from sandy Pylos?
He has gone off with my ship, and I need it
635to cross over to broad Elis, where I have
twelve mares, with sturdy mule foals at their feet,
still unbroken. I would drive one out and break it in.”
Commentary
The poem cuts from Spartan gift exchange to Ithaca. While the suitors compete in games outside Odysseus' house, Noemon casually asks when Telemachus will return with the ship he freely lent. His practical need for the vessel reveals a successful voyage the suitors had not even understood was underway.
4.620–637 The abrupt return to Ithaca lets a mundane request for a borrowed ship expose Telemachus' unseen success. Spartan banqueters enter as the Ithacan suitors continue games at Odysseus' house, creating a pointed simultaneity of hospitality and occupation. Noemon's need to train a mule makes the voyage public by accident and catches the leaders without a prepared response.
4.625–629 ἀρετή marks Antinous and Eurymachus as outstanding in prowess among the suitors without granting moral excellence. The narrator places their superiority beside games and continuing hybris in the paved court. Local competence and leadership intensify their responsibility for what follows; the term should not be translated or interpreted as a simple declaration that they are ethically virtuous.
The suitors discover Telemachus' voyage 4.638–657
638ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἀνὰ θυμὸν ἐθάμβεον· οὐ γὰρ ἔφαντο
ἐς Πύλον οἴχεσθαι Νηλήιον, ἀλλά που αὐτοῦ
640ἀγρῶν ἢ μήλοισι παρέμμεναι ἠὲ συβώτῃ.
τὸν δʼ αὖτʼ Ἀντίνοος προσέφη Εὐπείθεος υἱός·
νημερτές μοι ἔνισπε, πότʼ ᾤχετο καὶ τίνες αὐτῷ
κοῦροι ἕποντʼ; Ἰθάκης ἐξαίρετοι, ἦ ἑοὶ αὐτοῦ
θῆτές τε δμῶές τε; δύναιτό κε καὶ τὸ τελέσσαι.
645καί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ ἐὺ εἰδῶ,
ἤ σε βίῃ ἀέκοντος ἀπηύρα νῆα μέλαιναν,
ἦε ἑκών οἱ δῶκας, ἐπεὶ προσπτύξατο μύθῳ.
τὸν δʼ υἱὸς Φρονίοιο Νοήμων ἀντίον ηὔδα·
αὐτὸς ἑκών οἱ δῶκα· τί κεν ῥέξειε καὶ ἄλλος,
650ὁππότʼ ἀνὴρ τοιοῦτος ἔχων μελεδήματα θυμῷ
αἰτίζῃ; χαλεπόν κεν ἀνήνασθαι δόσιν εἴη.
κοῦροι δʼ, οἳ κατὰ δῆμον ἀριστεύουσι μεθʼ ἡμέας,
οἵ οἱ ἕποντʼ· ἐν δʼ ἀρχὸν ἐγὼ βαίνοντʼ ἐνόησα
Μέντορα, ἠὲ θεόν, τῷ δʼ αὐτῷ πάντα ἐῴκει.
655ἀλλὰ τὸ θαυμάζω· ἴδον ἐνθάδε Μέντορα δῖον
χθιζὸν ὑπηοῖον, τότε δʼ ἔμβη νηὶ Πύλονδε.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη πρὸς δώματα πατρός,
638So he spoke, and they were astonished within, for they did not think
Telemachus had gone to Neleian Pylos, but was somewhere nearby
640among the fields, with the sheep, or beside the swineherd.
Antinous, son of Eupeithes, answered him:
“Tell me the unerring truth: when did he leave, and which
young men followed him? Were they picked men of Ithaca, or his own
hired laborers and slaves? He could have managed that as well.
645And tell me this truthfully, so I know clearly:
did he take your black ship by force against your will,
or did you give it willingly when he approached you with his request?”
Noemon, son of Phronius, answered him face to face:
“I gave it willingly myself. What would anyone else do
650when a man like him, with troubles weighing on his spirit,
asks? It would be hard to refuse the gift.
The young men who are foremost among us in the district
followed him. I saw Mentor board as their leader—
or else a god, since in every way he looked exactly like him.
655But this amazes me: I saw godlike Mentor here
yesterday at dawn, though he had boarded the ship for Pylos.”
So he spoke and went away toward his father's house.
Commentary
Antinous interrogates Noemon about departure, crew, consent, and leadership. Noemon confirms that he lent the ship willingly, that leading young men joined Telemachus, and that Mentor—or a god exactly resembling him—boarded as leader despite being seen in Ithaca afterward. The voyage now appears not as a child's disappearance but as organized public action with a divine anomaly.
4.638–656 Noemon's answers dismantle the suitors' assumption that Telemachus remained nearby and reveal willing communal support plus unexplained divine doubling. He gave the ship voluntarily, leading young men joined, and Mentor appeared to board as commander. Noemon then reports seeing Mentor in Ithaca despite the voyage, preserving his own alternative that a god identical in appearance may have traveled instead.
Antinous plans the ambush 4.658–674
658τοῖσιν δʼ ἀμφοτέροισιν ἀγάσσατο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
μνηστῆρας δʼ ἄμυδις κάθισαν καὶ παῦσαν ἀέθλων.
660τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος μετέφη Εὐπείθεος υἱός,
ἀχνύμενος· μένεος δὲ μέγα φρένες ἀμφιμέλαιναι
πίμπλαντʼ, ὄσσε δέ οἱ πυρὶ λαμπετόωντι ἐίκτην·
ὢ πόποι, ἦ μέγα ἔργον ὑπερφιάλως ἐτελέσθη
Τηλεμάχῳ ὁδὸς ἥδε· φάμεν δέ οἱ οὐ τελέεσθαι.
665ἐκ τοσσῶνδʼ ἀέκητι νέος πάϊς οἴχεται αὔτως
νῆα ἐρυσσάμενος, κρίνας τʼ ἀνὰ δῆμον ἀρίστους.
ἄρξει καὶ προτέρω κακὸν ἔμμεναι· ἀλλά οἱ αὐτῷ
Ζεὺς ὀλέσειε βίην, πρὶν ἥβης μέτρον ἱκέσθαι.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε μοι δότε νῆα θοὴν καὶ εἴκοσʼ ἑταίρους,
670ὄφρα μιν αὐτὸν ἰόντα λοχήσομαι ἠδὲ φυλάξω
ἐν πορθμῷ Ἰθάκης τε Σάμοιό τε παιπαλοέσσης,
ὡς ἂν ἐπισμυγερῶς ναυτίλλεται εἵνεκα πατρός.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ, οἱ δʼ ἄρα πάντες ἐπῄνεον ἠδʼ ἐκέλευον.
αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἀνστάντες ἔβαν δόμον εἰς Ὀδυσῆος.
658The proud spirits of both men were indignant.
They made the suitors sit together and stopped the games.
660Antinous, son of Eupeithes, spoke among them,
vexed, while his dark heart filled
with great fury and his eyes blazed like burning fire:
“How astonishing! Telemachus has carried through this journey
with bold defiance, though we said it would never be accomplished.
665Against the will of so many of us, the mere boy has simply gone,
launching a ship and choosing the best men in the district.
He will become a danger to us yet. But may Zeus destroy
his strength before he reaches the full measure of manhood.
Come, give me a swift ship and twenty companions,
670so I can lie in ambush and watch for him as he returns
in the strait between Ithaca and rocky Same.
Then his voyage for his father's sake will end most bitterly.”
So he spoke, and they all approved and urged him on.
At once they rose and went into the house of Odysseus.
Commentary
The suitor leaders stop the games and convene the group. Antinous' fury recasts Telemachus' completed journey as defiance and a future threat, and he asks Zeus to destroy the young man's strength before maturity. He then turns fear of growth into a concrete maritime ambush between Ithaca and Same, which the gathered suitors approve and urge him to carry out.
4.658–674 Antinous reads Telemachus' completed journey as a threat because it disproves the suitors' power to keep him politically immature. The youth has acted against the will of many, launched a ship, and selected prominent companions. Antinous' wish that Zeus destroy his strength before the measure of manhood reveals that the ambush is preventive: it targets future capacity exposed by present success.
4.669–674 The murder plot moves at once from speech to collective authorization and relocation into Odysseus' house. Antinous specifies ship, twenty companions, route, and surveillance point, then the suitors approve. Their immediate entry into the threatened household joins planning violence against the heir to continued occupation of his father's space.
Medon approaches and Penelope rebukes the suitors 4.675–695
675οὐδʼ ἄρα Πηνελόπεια πολὺν χρόνον ἦεν ἄπυστος
μύθων, οὓς μνηστῆρες ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βυσσοδόμευον·
κῆρυξ γάρ οἱ ἔειπε Μέδων, ὃς ἐπεύθετο βουλὰς
αὐλῆς ἐκτὸς ἐών· οἱ δʼ ἔνδοθι μῆτιν ὕφαινον.
βῆ δʼ ἴμεν ἀγγελέων διὰ δώματα Πηνελοπείῃ·
680τὸν δὲ κατʼ οὐδοῦ βάντα προσηύδα Πηνελόπεια·
κῆρυξ, τίπτε δέ σε πρόεσαν μνηστῆρες ἀγαυοί;
ἦ εἰπέμεναι δμῳῇσιν Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο
ἔργων παύσασθαι, σφίσι δʼ αὐτοῖς δαῖτα πένεσθαι;
μὴ μνηστεύσαντες μηδʼ ἄλλοθʼ ὁμιλήσαντες
685ὕστατα καὶ πύματα νῦν ἐνθάδε δειπνήσειαν·
οἳ θάμʼ ἀγειρόμενοι βίοτον κατακείρετε πολλόν,
κτῆσιν Τηλεμάχοιο δαΐφρονος· οὐδέ τι πατρῶν
ὑμετέρων τὸ πρόσθεν ἀκούετε, παῖδες ἐόντες,
οἷος Ὀδυσσεὺς ἔσκε μεθʼ ὑμετέροισι τοκεῦσιν,
690οὔτε τινὰ ῥέξας ἐξαίσιον οὔτε τι εἰπὼν
ἐν δήμῳ, ἥ τʼ ἐστὶ δίκη θείων βασιλήων·
ἄλλον κʼ ἐχθαίρῃσι βροτῶν, ἄλλον κε φιλοίη.
κεῖνος δʼ οὔ ποτε πάμπαν ἀτάσθαλον ἄνδρα ἐώργει.
ἀλλʼ ὁ μὲν ὑμέτερος θυμὸς καὶ ἀεικέα ἔργα
695φαίνεται, οὐδέ τίς ἐστι χάρις μετόπισθʼ ἐυεργέων.
675Penelope did not remain unaware for long
of the designs the suitors were weaving deep in their hearts.
The herald Medon told her, for he had learned of their plans
while standing outside the court as they wove their scheme within.
He went through the house to bring word to Penelope.
680As he crossed the threshold, Penelope addressed him:
“Herald, why have the proud suitors sent you?
Is it to tell the enslaved women of godlike Odysseus
to stop their work and prepare a feast for them?
May they never woo or gather anywhere else,
685but eat their last and final dinner here today—
you who gather continually and cut away so much of the livelihood,
the possessions of wise Telemachus. Did you never hear
from your fathers when you were children
what Odysseus was like among your parents?
690He never committed an outrageous act or spoke one
among the people, though that is often the way of divine kings:
a king may hate one mortal and love another.
But Odysseus never did any man a reckless wrong.
Your own spirit and your shameful deeds
695are plain to see, and there is no gratitude afterward for good done.”
Commentary
Medon overhears the suitors' inwardly woven plan from outside and goes to Penelope. Before he speaks, she assumes he may be carrying another demand for household labor and condemns the men for consuming Telemachus' property despite Odysseus' earlier restraint toward their fathers. Her rebuke frames present ingratitude against remembered kingship before she knows the danger has escalated to murder.
4.675–695 Medon learns the inwardly woven plot from outside and reaches Penelope while she still expects only another demand on household labor. The spatial irony is exact: suitors devise within, the herald hears outside, and Penelope meets him at the threshold. Her premature rebuke nonetheless supplies the ethical frame for the worse news by opposing their ingratitude to Odysseus' remembered restraint among their fathers.
4.686–695 Penelope interprets the suitors' consumption as failure of intergenerational gratitude for Odysseus' good rule. She contrasts the cutting away of Telemachus' livelihood with a king who neither acted nor spoke outrageously among their parents. Her final claim that benefaction receives no later χάρις gives the household crisis a civic memory and a reciprocal moral vocabulary.
Medon reveals the murder plot and Telemachus' journey 4.696–715
696τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε Μέδων πεπνυμένα εἰδώς·
αἲ γὰρ δή, βασίλεια, τόδε πλεῖστον κακὸν εἴη.
ἀλλὰ πολὺ μεῖζόν τε καὶ ἀργαλεώτερον ἄλλο
μνηστῆρες φράζονται, ὃ μὴ τελέσειε Κρονίων·
700Τηλέμαχον μεμάασι κατακτάμεν ὀξέι χαλκῷ
οἴκαδε νισόμενον· ὁ δʼ ἔβη μετὰ πατρὸς ἀκουὴν
ἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην ἠδʼ ἐς Λακεδαίμονα δῖαν.
ὣς φάτο, τῆς δʼ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ,
δὴν δέ μιν ἀμφασίη ἐπέων λάβε· τὼ δέ οἱ ὄσσε
705δακρυόφι πλῆσθεν, θαλερὴ δέ οἱ ἔσχετο φωνή.
ὀψὲ δὲ δή μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπε·
κῆρυξ, τίπτε δέ μοι πάϊς οἴχεται; οὐδέ τί μιν χρεὼ
νηῶν ὠκυπόρων ἐπιβαινέμεν, αἵ θʼ ἁλὸς ἵπποι
ἀνδράσι γίγνονται, περόωσι δὲ πουλὺν ἐφʼ ὑγρήν.
710ἦ ἵνα μηδʼ ὄνομʼ αὐτοῦ ἐν ἀνθρώποισι λίπηται;
τὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα Μέδων πεπνυμένα εἰδώς·
οὐκ οἶδʼ ἤ τίς μιν θεὸς ὤρορεν, ἦε καὶ αὐτοῦ
θυμὸς ἐφωρμήθη ἴμεν ἐς Πύλον, ὄφρα πύθηται
πατρὸς ἑοῦ ἢ νόστον ἢ ὅν τινα πότμον ἐπέσπεν.
715ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη κατὰ δῶμʼ Ὀδυσῆος.
696Medon, who understood prudently, answered her:
“If only, queen, this were the greatest evil.
But the suitors are devising another thing, far greater
and more painful—may the son of Cronus never bring it to pass.
700They are eager to kill Telemachus with sharp bronze
as he returns home. He went seeking news of his father
to sacred Pylos and divine Lacedaemon.”
So he spoke, and there her knees and dear heart gave way.
For a long time speechlessness held her; both her eyes
705filled with tears, and her full voice was checked.
At last she answered him:
“Herald, why has my son gone? He had no need
to board swift-faring ships, which serve men as horses
of the sea and cross its vast wet expanse.
710Did he go so that not even his name would remain among humankind?”
Medon, who understood prudently, answered her:
“I do not know whether some god roused him, or his own
spirit stirred him to go to Pylos and learn
of his father's return, or what fate overtook him.”
715So he spoke and departed through the house of Odysseus.
Commentary
Medon distinguishes the familiar depredation from a greater evil: the suitors intend to kill Telemachus on his return. Only then does Penelope learn that her son has gone to Pylos and Sparta seeking his father. Her body fails before speech returns, and Medon carefully refuses certainty about whether a god or Telemachus' own spirit initiated the voyage.
4.696–715 Medon orders his disclosure from the murder plot back to the journey that made the plot possible, while preserving uncertainty about Telemachus' initiating agency. Penelope first hears that the suitors intend to kill her returning son and only then learns of Pylos and Sparta. Asked why he went, Medon offers a god or Telemachus' own spirit as alternatives, refusing to convert limited knowledge into certainty.
Penelope laments and seeks Laertes' help 4.716–741
716τὴν δʼ ἄχος ἀμφεχύθη θυμοφθόρον, οὐδʼ ἄρʼ ἔτʼ ἔτλη
δίφρῳ ἐφέζεσθαι πολλῶν κατὰ οἶκον ἐόντων,
ἀλλʼ ἄρʼ ἐπʼ οὐδοῦ ἷζε πολυκμήτου θαλάμοιο
οἴκτρʼ ὀλοφυρομένη· περὶ δὲ δμῳαὶ μινύριζον
720πᾶσαι, ὅσαι κατὰ δώματʼ ἔσαν νέαι ἠδὲ παλαιαί.
τῇς δʼ ἁδινὸν γοόωσα μετηύδα Πηνελόπεια·
κλῦτε, φίλαι· πέρι γάρ μοι Ὀλύμπιος ἄλγεʼ ἔδωκεν
ἐκ πασέων, ὅσσαι μοι ὁμοῦ τράφεν ἠδʼ ἐγένοντο·
ἣ πρὶν μὲν πόσιν ἐσθλὸν ἀπώλεσα θυμολέοντα,
725παντοίῃς ἀρετῇσι κεκασμένον ἐν Δαναοῖσιν,
ἐσθλόν, τοῦ κλέος εὐρὺ καθʼ Ἑλλάδα καὶ μέσον Ἄργος.
νῦν αὖ παῖδʼ ἀγαπητὸν ἀνηρείψαντο θύελλαι
ἀκλέα ἐκ μεγάρων, οὐδʼ ὁρμηθέντος ἄκουσα.
σχέτλιαι, οὐδʼ ὑμεῖς περ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θέσθε ἑκάστη
730ἐκ λεχέων μʼ ἀνεγεῖραι, ἐπιστάμεναι σάφα θυμῷ,
ὁππότʼ ἐκεῖνος ἔβη κοίλην ἐπὶ νῆα μέλαιναν.
εἰ γὰρ ἐγὼ πυθόμην ταύτην ὁδὸν ὁρμαίνοντα,
τῷ κε μάλʼ ἤ κεν ἔμεινε καὶ ἐσσύμενός περ ὁδοῖο,
ἤ κέ με τεθνηκυῖαν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν ἔλειπεν.
735ἀλλά τις ὀτρηρῶς Δολίον καλέσειε γέροντα,
δμῶʼ ἐμόν, ὅν μοι δῶκε πατὴρ ἔτι δεῦρο κιούσῃ,
καί μοι κῆπον ἔχει πολυδένδρεον, ὄφρα τάχιστα
Λαέρτῃ τάδε πάντα παρεζόμενος καταλέξῃ,
εἰ δή πού τινα κεῖνος ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μῆτιν ὑφήνας
740ἐξελθὼν λαοῖσιν ὀδύρεται, οἳ μεμάασιν
ὃν καὶ Ὀδυσσῆος φθῖσαι γόνον ἀντιθέοιο.
716Heart-destroying grief poured around Penelope. She could no longer bear
to sit on a chair, though many stood throughout the house,
but sat on the threshold of her much-worked chamber
lamenting pitifully, while the enslaved women whimpered around her,
720all who were in the house, young and old.
Through her heavy sobbing Penelope spoke among them:
“Listen, dear women. The Olympian has given me grief beyond
all the women who were born and raised with me.
First I lost my noble, lion-hearted husband,
725foremost among the Danaans in every kind of excellence,
a noble man whose wide renown reaches through Hellas and central Argos.
Now the storms have swept my beloved son
without renown from the halls, and I did not even hear him depart.
Hard-hearted women! Not one of you thought
730to wake me from bed, though each knew clearly in her mind
when he went aboard the hollow black ship.
For if I had learned that he intended this journey,
he would surely have stayed, however eager he was to go,
or he would have left me dead within the halls.
735But let someone quickly summon old Dolios,
my enslaved man, whom my father gave me when I came here.
He keeps my orchard thick with trees. Let him go quickly
and sit beside Laertes and tell him everything,
so that perhaps the old man may weave some plan in his mind
740and come out to appeal to the people who are eager
to destroy his own line and the line of godlike Odysseus.”
Commentary
Penelope moves from her chair to the threshold of her chamber and laments with the women of the house. She sets the feared loss of Telemachus beside Odysseus' absence, calls the son's departure without notice a departure without renown, and asks that Dolios inform Laertes so the old man may devise a public appeal. Grief therefore reaches outward toward servants, kin, and community even as Penelope speaks from enclosure.
4.716–741 Penelope's grief moves from bodily collapse to a proposed chain of household and public action. She sits at the chamber threshold, laments among all the women, blames their failure to wake her, and then calls for Dolios to inform Laertes. The imagined next step is not private rescue but an old man's appeal to the people against destruction of the family line.
4.727–741 ἀκλέα in Penelope's lament makes the son's secret departure feel like erasure of name and report, not simply physical absence. She says storms have swept him from the house without renown and connects that fear to not hearing him depart. Her request to Laertes then restates the danger genealogically: the suitors aim to destroy both his line and Odysseus' offspring.
Eurycleia reveals her oath and counsels prayer 4.742–758
742τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε φίλη τροφὸς Εὐρύκλεια·
νύμφα φίλη, σὺ μὲν ἄρ με κατάκτανε νηλέι χαλκῷ
ἢ ἔα ἐν μεγάρῳ· μῦθον δέ τοι οὐκ ἐπικεύσω.
745ᾔδεʼ ἐγὼ τάδε πάντα, πόρον δέ οἱ ὅσσʼ ἐκέλευε,
σῖτον καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ· ἐμεῦ δʼ ἕλετο μέγαν ὅρκον
μὴ πρὶν σοὶ ἐρέειν, πρὶν δωδεκάτην γε γενέσθαι
ἢ σʼ αὐτὴν ποθέσαι καὶ ἀφορμηθέντος ἀκοῦσαι,
ὡς ἂν μὴ κλαίουσα κατὰ χρόα καλὸν ἰάπτῃς.
750ἀλλʼ ὑδρηναμένη, καθαρὰ χροῒ εἵμαθʼ ἑλοῦσα,
εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀναβᾶσα σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξὶν
εὔχεʼ Ἀθηναίῃ κούρῃ Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο·
ἡ γάρ κέν μιν ἔπειτα καὶ ἐκ θανάτοιο σαώσαι.
μηδὲ γέροντα κάκου κεκακωμένον· οὐ γὰρ ὀίω
755πάγχυ θεοῖς μακάρεσσι γονὴν Ἀρκεισιάδαο
ἔχθεσθʼ, ἀλλʼ ἔτι πού τις ἐπέσσεται ὅς κεν ἔχῃσι
δώματά θʼ ὑψερεφέα καὶ ἀπόπροθι πίονας ἀγρούς.
ὣς φάτο, τῆς δʼ εὔνησε γόον, σχέθε δʼ ὄσσε γόοιο.
742Her dear nurse Eurycleia answered her:
“Dear child, either kill me with pitiless bronze
or let me remain in the house; I will not conceal the truth from you.
745I knew everything and gave him all he asked for,
bread and sweet wine. He made me swear a binding oath
not to tell you before the twelfth day had come,
or until you yourself missed him and heard that he had gone,
so that weeping would not waste the beauty of your body.
750But wash yourself, put clean clothes on your body,
go up to the upper room with your attendant women,
and pray to Athena, daughter of Zeus who bears the aegis.
She can save him even from death.
Do not afflict the old man, already afflicted. I do not think
755the line of Arcesius is utterly hated
by the blessed gods. Someone will still remain to hold
the high-roofed house and the rich fields far away.”
So she spoke, lulled Penelope's lament, and stopped the tears in her eyes.
Commentary
Eurycleia confesses that she knew of the voyage, provisioned it, and kept silence under Telemachus' oath until a fixed time or Penelope's discovery. She redirects Penelope from immediate disclosure to Laertes toward washing, clean clothing, ascent, and prayer to Athena. Her reassurance is hopeful rather than prophetic: divine hostility, she thinks, has not erased Arcesius' descendants.
4.742–758 Eurycleia accepts responsibility for secrecy, explains the oath's protective timing, and redirects Penelope from Laertes toward Athena. She supplied bread and wine under an oath intended to delay damaging grief, then now reveals the truth without minimizing it. Her counsel joins bodily preparation to prayer and closes with a cautious opinion that the family line is not wholly hated, not with knowledge of the outcome.
Penelope prays while Antinous suppresses loose talk 4.759–777
759ἡ δʼ ὑδρηναμένη, καθαρὰ χροῒ εἵμαθʼ ἑλοῦσα
760εἰς ὑπερῷʼ ἀνέβαινε σὺν ἀμφιπόλοισι γυναιξίν,
ἐν δʼ ἔθετʼ οὐλοχύτας κανέῳ, ἠρᾶτο δʼ Ἀθήνῃ·
κλῦθί μευ, αἰγιόχοιο Διὸς τέκος, Ἀτρυτώνη,
εἴ ποτέ τοι πολύμητις ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν Ὀδυσσεὺς
ἢ βοὸς ἢ ὄϊος κατὰ πίονα μηρίʼ ἔκηε,
765τῶν νῦν μοι μνῆσαι, καί μοι φίλον υἷα σάωσον,
μνηστῆρας δʼ ἀπάλαλκε κακῶς ὑπερηνορέοντας.
ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ὀλόλυξε, θεὰ δέ οἱ ἔκλυεν ἀρῆς.
μνηστῆρες δʼ ὁμάδησαν ἀνὰ μέγαρα σκιόεντα·
ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκε νέων ὑπερηνορεόντων·
770ἦ μάλα δὴ γάμον ἄμμι πολυμνήστη βασίλεια
ἀρτύει, οὐδέ τι οἶδεν ὅ οἱ φόνος υἷι τέτυκται.
ὣς ἄρα τις εἴπεσκε, τὰ δʼ οὐκ ἴσαν ὡς ἐτέτυκτο.
τοῖσιν δʼ Ἀντίνοος ἀγορήσατο καὶ μετέειπε·
δαιμόνιοι, μύθους μὲν ὑπερφιάλους ἀλέασθε
775πάντας ὁμῶς, μή πού τις ἀπαγγείλῃσι καὶ εἴσω.
ἀλλʼ ἄγε σιγῇ τοῖον ἀναστάντες τελέωμεν
μῦθον, ὃ δὴ καὶ πᾶσιν ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἤραρεν ἡμῖν.
759Penelope washed herself and put clean clothes on her body,
760then went up to the upper room with her attendant women.
She placed barley grains in a basket and prayed to Athena:
“Hear me, Unwearied one, child of Zeus who bears the aegis.
If ever Odysseus, master of many plans, burned for you in these halls
the rich thighbones of an ox or sheep,
765remember those offerings now, save my dear son,
and ward off the cruelly overbearing suitors.”
With this she raised the ritual cry, and the goddess heard her prayer.
The suitors made an uproar through the shadowed hall,
and one of the overbearing young men would say:
770“The much-courted queen must be preparing a marriage for us,
with no knowledge that murder has been prepared for her son.”
So one would say, though they did not know how matters stood.
Antinous addressed them and spoke:
“You strange men, avoid all overbearing talk,
775in case someone reports it inside the house.
Come, let us rise in silence and carry out
the plan that has found favor in the hearts of us all.”
Commentary
Penelope performs Eurycleia's instructions, offers barley, invokes Athena through Odysseus' past sacrifices, and asks that Telemachus be saved and the suitors repelled. The goddess hears, but the narrative immediately cuts to the suitors misreading household sound as marriage preparation. Antinous suppresses their boastful talk so the murder plan will not be reported inside.
4.759–767 Penelope's prayer follows a prepared sequence and invokes Athena through remembered reciprocity with Odysseus. Washing, clean clothing, ascent with attendants, barley in a basket, direct invocation, remembered thigh offerings, petition, and ritual cry unfold in order. The narrator states that Athena hears, confirming reception of the prayer without yet narrating fulfillment of every request.
4.768–777 The suitors misread the household sound as marriage preparation, while Antinous understands that their own speech could expose the plot. Their joke produces dramatic irony because the audience has just heard Penelope pray against them and knows murder is prepared for her son. Antinous' command for silence shows tactical awareness: boastful language is dangerous because information can cross the same household boundaries Medon already traversed.
The suitors launch and Penelope falls asleep 4.778–794
778ὣς εἰπὼν ἐκρίνατʼ ἐείκοσι φῶτας ἀρίστους,
βὰν δʼ ἰέναι ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης.
780νῆα μὲν οὖν πάμπρωτον ἁλὸς βένθοσδε ἔρυσσαν,
ἐν δʼ ἱστόν τʼ ἐτίθεντο καὶ ἱστία νηὶ μελαίνῃ,
ἠρτύναντο δʼ ἐρετμὰ τροποῖς ἐν δερματίνοισιν,
πάντα κατὰ μοῖραν, ἀνά θʼ ἱστία λευκὰ πέτασσαν·
τεύχεα δέ σφʼ ἤνεικαν ὑπέρθυμοι θεράποντες.
785ὑψοῦ δʼ ἐν νοτίῳ τήν γʼ ὥρμισαν, ἐκ δʼ ἔβαν αὐτοί·
ἔνθα δὲ δόρπον ἕλοντο, μένον δʼ ἐπὶ ἕσπερον ἐλθεῖν.
ἡ δʼ ὑπερωίῳ αὖθι περίφρων Πηνελόπεια
κεῖτʼ ἄρʼ ἄσιτος, ἄπαστος ἐδητύος ἠδὲ ποτῆτος,
ὁρμαίνουσʼ ἤ οἱ θάνατον φύγοι υἱὸς ἀμύμων,
790ἦ ὅ γʼ ὑπὸ μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισι δαμείη.
ὅσσα δὲ μερμήριξε λέων ἀνδρῶν ἐν ὁμίλῳ
δείσας, ὁππότε μιν δόλιον περὶ κύκλον ἄγωσι,
τόσσα μιν ὁρμαίνουσαν ἐπήλυθε νήδυμος ὕπνος·
εὗδε δʼ ἀνακλινθεῖσα, λύθεν δέ οἱ ἅψεα πάντα.
778So he spoke and chose the twenty best men.
They went to the swift ship and the seashore.
780First they drew the ship into the deep water,
then set mast and sails in the black vessel
and fitted the oars into their leather thole-loops,
all in due order, before spreading the white sails.
Their high-spirited attendants brought them their weapons.
785They moored the ship well out in the harbor and went ashore.
There they took supper and waited for evening to come.
Meanwhile discerning Penelope lay in the upper room,
without food and without tasting either meat or drink,
wondering whether her blameless son would escape death
790or be overcome by the overbearing suitors.
As a lion broods in fear amid a crowd of men
closing a treacherous circle around it,
so she pondered until sweet sleep came upon her.
She slept reclining, and all her joints relaxed.
Commentary
Antinous selects twenty men, and the ambushers prepare their ship in orderly technical sequence before eating and waiting for night. Penelope meanwhile refuses food and drink, circling the alternatives of her son's escape or death. A lion surrounded by a treacherous ring images her fear until sleep releases her body.
4.778–786 The launch sequence advances through ordered technical verbs until the conspirators pause offshore for evening. Selection, movement, hauling, mast and sail placement, fitting oars into leather loops, arming, mooring, disembarking, and eating create a procedural cadence. The sustained coordination makes the ambush materially competent; this note observes audible sequencing without claiming exhaustive scansion.
4.787–794 The encircled lion simile gives Penelope the predator's strength but also its fear inside a human trap. She is fasting and deliberating between her son's escape and death when the comparison surrounds the lion with a treacherous ring. The image does not make Penelope helpless; it concentrates awareness, danger, and constrained power before sleep loosens her body.
Athena sends the phantom of Iphthime 4.795–829
795ἔνθʼ αὖτʼ ἄλλʼ ἐνόησε θεά, γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη·
εἴδωλον ποίησε, δέμας δʼ ἤικτο γυναικί,
Ἰφθίμῃ, κούρῃ μεγαλήτορος Ἰκαρίοιο,
τὴν Εὔμηλος ὄπυιε Φερῇς ἔνι οἰκία ναίων.
πέμπε δέ μιν πρὸς δώματʼ Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο,
800ἧος Πηνελόπειαν ὀδυρομένην γοόωσαν
παύσειε κλαυθμοῖο γόοιό τε δακρυόεντος.
ἐς θάλαμον δʼ εἰσῆλθε παρὰ κληῖδος ἱμάντα,
στῆ δʼ ἄρʼ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς, καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπεν·
εὕδεις, Πηνελόπεια, φίλον τετιημένη ἦτορ;
805οὐ μέν σʼ οὐδὲ ἐῶσι θεοὶ ῥεῖα ζώοντες
κλαίειν οὐδʼ ἀκάχησθαι, ἐπεί ῥʼ ἔτι νόστιμός ἐστι
σὸς παῖς· οὐ μὲν γάρ τι θεοῖς ἀλιτήμενός ἐστι.
τὴν δʼ ἠμείβετʼ ἔπειτα περίφρων Πηνελόπεια,
ἡδὺ μάλα κνώσσουσʼ ἐν ὀνειρείῃσι πύλῃσιν·
810τίπτε, κασιγνήτη, δεῦρʼ ἤλυθες; οὔ τι πάρος γε
πωλέʼ, ἐπεὶ μάλα πολλὸν ἀπόπροθι δώματα ναίεις·
καί με κέλεαι παύσασθαι ὀιζύος ἠδʼ ὀδυνάων
πολλέων, αἵ μʼ ἐρέθουσι κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,
ἣ πρὶν μὲν πόσιν ἐσθλὸν ἀπώλεσα θυμολέοντα,
815παντοίῃς ἀρετῇσι κεκασμένον ἐν Δαναοῖσιν,
ἐσθλόν, τοῦ κλέος εὐρὺ καθʼ Ἑλλάδα καὶ μέσον Ἄργος·
νῦν αὖ παῖς ἀγαπητὸς ἔβη κοίλης ἐπὶ νηός,
νήπιος, οὔτε πόνων ἐὺ εἰδὼς οὔτʼ ἀγοράων.
τοῦ δὴ ἐγὼ καὶ μᾶλλον ὀδύρομαι ἤ περ ἐκείνου·
820τοῦ δʼ ἀμφιτρομέω καὶ δείδια, μή τι πάθῃσιν,
ἢ ὅ γε τῶν ἐνὶ δήμῳ, ἵνʼ οἴχεται, ἢ ἐνὶ πόντῳ·
δυσμενέες γὰρ πολλοὶ ἐπʼ αὐτῷ μηχανόωνται,
ἱέμενοι κτεῖναι πρὶν πατρίδα γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.
τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενον προσέφη εἴδωλον ἀμαυρόν·
825θάρσει, μηδέ τι πάγχυ μετὰ φρεσὶ δείδιθι λίην·
τοίη γάρ οἱ πομπὸς ἅμʼ ἔρχεται, ἥν τε καὶ ἄλλοι
ἀνέρες ἠρήσαντο παρεστάμεναι, δύναται γάρ,
Παλλὰς Ἀθηναίη· σὲ δʼ ὀδυρομένην ἐλεαίρει·
ἣ νῦν με προέηκε τεῒν τάδε μυθήσασθαι.
795Then the goddess, bright-eyed Athena, devised another plan.
She made a phantom in the form of a woman,
Iphthime, daughter of great-hearted Icarius,
whom Eumelus had married and who lived in Pherae.
Athena sent it to the house of godlike Odysseus
800so that it might stop the grieving, lamenting Penelope
from tearful crying and mourning.
It entered the chamber beside the strap of the door bolt,
stood above her head, and said:
“Penelope, are you sleeping with your dear heart distressed?
805The gods, who live at ease, do not allow you
to weep and grieve, since your son is still destined to return.
He has committed no offense against the gods.”
Discerning Penelope answered her,
slumbering sweetly at the gates of dreams:
810“Why have you come here, sister? You never visited before,
since you live in a house so very far away.
You tell me to stop the misery and
the many pains that torment my mind and spirit.
First I lost my noble, lion-hearted husband,
815foremost among the Danaans in every kind of excellence,
a noble man whose wide renown reaches through Hellas and central Argos.
Now my beloved son has gone aboard a hollow ship,
still a child, with no good knowledge of hardship or assemblies.
I mourn for him even more than for his father.
820I tremble for him and fear he may suffer something,
either among the people where he has gone or on the sea.
Many enemies are plotting against him,
eager to kill him before he reaches his native land.”
The dim phantom answered her:
825“Take courage, and do not be so utterly afraid in your heart.
Such an escort travels beside him as other men
have prayed might stand beside them, for she has power:
Pallas Athena. She pities you in your grief,
and has sent me now to tell you this.”
Commentary
Athena makes a phantom in the form of Penelope's sister Iphthime and sends it through the barred chamber to stop her lament. The apparition promises Telemachus' return because he has not offended the gods and then identifies Athena as his powerful escort. Consolation is precise but bounded to the son's safety.
4.795–807 Athena creates a likeness rather than sending Iphthime herself, and commissions it to end Penelope's lament with a precise assurance about Telemachus. The narrator identifies the figure as an eidōlon shaped like Penelope's sister before it crosses the closed chamber. Its speech promises the son's return because he has not offended the gods, limiting divine consolation to what Athena chooses to disclose.
4.802–807 The phantom enters παρὰ κληῖδος ἱμάντα, beside the strap associated with the door bolt, emphasizing access through a secured chamber. The phrase locates the apparition at a specific closure mechanism rather than depicting an ordinary visitor admitted through the house. The detail reinforces divine permeability while remaining materially compact; it should not be expanded into a complete reconstruction of the door.
4.808–823 Penelope answers from within sleep by testing the familiar form and restating why fear for Telemachus now exceeds grief for Odysseus. She notes that her sister normally lives far away, then refuses generic consolation by specifying husband, son, inexperience, sea, foreign communities, and enemies. Her speech shows accurate awareness of danger even though she lacks the divine knowledge supplied by the apparition.
4.824–837 The phantom reveals Athena as Telemachus' escort but refuses Penelope's request for a plain statement about Odysseus. Its authority is therefore both real and bounded. The reason given is ethical speech restraint—empty words are bad—not a hint that Odysseus is dead; elsewhere in the same book Proteus has already reported him alive to Telemachus.
Penelope asks of Odysseus and wakes consoled 4.830–841
830τὴν δʼ αὖτε προσέειπε περίφρων Πηνελόπεια·
εἰ μὲν δὴ θεός ἐσσι θεοῖό τε ἔκλυες αὐδῆς,
εἰ δʼ ἄγε μοι καὶ κεῖνον ὀιζυρὸν κατάλεξον,
ἤ που ἔτι ζώει καὶ ὁρᾷ φάος ἠελίοιο,
ἦ ἤδη τέθνηκε καὶ εἰν Ἀίδαο δόμοισι.
835τὴν δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενον προσέφη εἴδωλον ἀμαυρόν·
οὐ μέν τοι κεῖνόν γε διηνεκέως ἀγορεύσω,
ζώει ὅ γʼ ἦ τέθνηκε· κακὸν δʼ ἀνεμώλια βάζειν.
ὣς εἰπὸν σταθμοῖο παρὰ κληῖδα λιάσθη
ἐς πνοιὰς ἀνέμων. ἡ δʼ ἐξ ὕπνου ἀνόρουσε
840κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο· φίλον δέ οἱ ἦτορ ἰάνθη,
ὥς οἱ ἐναργὲς ὄνειρον ἐπέσσυτο νυκτὸς ἀμολγῷ.
830Discerning Penelope answered her:
“If you are a goddess and have heard a goddess's voice,
come, tell me also of that suffering man:
is he perhaps still alive and looking on the sunlight,
or is he already dead and in the house of Hades?”
835The dim phantom answered her:
“I will not tell you plainly about him,
whether he lives or is dead; it is wrong to speak empty words.”
With this it slipped past the door bolt
into the currents of the winds. The daughter of Icarius
840sprang from sleep, and her dear heart grew warm
because so vivid a dream had rushed upon her in the depth of night.
Commentary
Speaking within the dream, Penelope repeats her losses and says fear for the inexperienced Telemachus now exceeds grief for Odysseus. She tests the visitor by asking for direct news of her husband. The phantom refuses to say whether he lives or is dead because empty speech would be wrong, then departs into the winds; Penelope wakes warmed by the vivid but incomplete dream.
4.838–841 The phantom slips into the winds, and Penelope's heart warms because the dream seemed vividly present in deep night. Wind-like departure preserves the apparition's insubstantial form, while ἐναργές gives the experience perceptual force after waking. The scene grants consolation through vividness without making the withheld answer about Odysseus any less withheld.
The suitors wait in ambush at Asteris 4.842–847
842μνηστῆρες δʼ ἀναβάντες ἐπέπλεον ὑγρὰ κέλευθα
Τηλεμάχῳ φόνον αἰπὺν ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ὁρμαίνοντες.
ἔστι δέ τις νῆσος μέσσῃ ἁλὶ πετρήεσσα,
845μεσσηγὺς Ἰθάκης τε Σάμοιό τε παιπαλοέσσης,
Ἀστερίς, οὐ μεγάλη· λιμένες δʼ ἔνι ναύλοχοι αὐτῇ
ἀμφίδυμοι· τῇ τόν γε μένον λοχόωντες Ἀχαιοί.
842The suitors boarded and sailed over the watery ways,
planning sheer death for Telemachus in their hearts.
There is a rocky island in the middle of the sea,
845between Ithaca and rocky Same,
Asteris—not large, but with twin harbors fit for sheltering ships.
There the Achaeans waited in ambush for him.
Commentary
The final six lines return from Penelope's warmed heart to the suitors' lethal purpose. They sail to rocky Asteris between Ithaca and Same, whose twin ship-sheltering harbors make it a suitable waiting place. The book ends with the ambush in position, converting the voyage plot from secret intention into an immediate spatial threat.
4.842–847 Asteris is defined by relative position, rocky scale, and twin ship-sheltering harbors that make waiting in ambush practicable. The closing description supplies exactly the features needed by the plot and returns from dream interiority to maritime threat. Its placement between Ithaca and Same is textually sufficient for the scene; no modern island identification follows from it.