Book 22

1 Then Odysseus of many wiles stripped off his rags and sprang onto the great threshold with the bow and the quiver full of arrows, and he poured out the swift arrows there before his feet and spoke among the suitors: “This contest, which was no plaything, is finished at last. Now I will find out about another mark, one that no man has ever hit yet, whether I can strike it, and Apollo grant me the glory.”

8 He spoke, and he aimed a bitter arrow at Antinous. Antinous was just about to lift a fine goblet, a two-handled cup of gold, and he had it in his hands already so that he might drink of the wine, and death was not in his thoughts. Who would think that one man among many at a feast, however strong he might be, would bring evil death and black fate upon him? But Odysseus aimed and struck him with the arrow in the throat, and the point went clean through the soft neck. He sank to one side, and the cup fell from his hand as he was struck, and at once a thick jet of human blood came up through his nostrils. Quickly he thrust the table away from him with a kick of his foot, and the food spilled to the ground, and the bread and roast meat were fouled. The suitors broke into an uproar through the house when they saw the man fall, and they sprang up from their chairs, driven in panic through the hall, looking everywhere along the well-built walls; but there was no shield anywhere, and no stout spear to take. They scolded Odysseus with angry words:

27 “Stranger, you will pay for shooting at men. You will never face another contest; now your sheer destruction is certain. For now you have killed the man who was by far the best of the young men in Ithaca. So the vultures will eat you here.”

31 So each man spoke, because they thought he had not killed the man on purpose. Fools, they did not see that the ropes of destruction had been made fast over every one of them. Odysseus of many wiles looked at them from under his brows and said:

35 “You dogs, you thought I would never come home again from the land of the Trojans, and so you wasted my house and forced the women servants to lie with you, and while I was still alive you wooed my wife, with no fear of the gods who hold the wide sky, nor of any blame from men to come. Now the ropes of destruction have been made fast over every one of you.”

42 So he spoke, and pale fear took hold of them all, and each man looked around for a way to escape sheer destruction. Eurymachus alone answered him and said:

45 “If you really are Odysseus of Ithaca come home, what you say is right, all that the Achaeans have done, many reckless things in the halls and many in the fields. But the man who was to blame for all of it already lies dead, Antinous. He was the one who set this work going, not so much because he wanted or needed the marriage, but with something else in mind, which the son of Cronus did not bring to pass for him: that he might be king himself over the people of well-built Ithaca, and that he might lie in ambush and kill your son. Now he has been killed, as was his due; but you, spare your people. We will make it good to you afterward, gathering it from the land, for all that has been drunk and eaten in your halls; each of us will bring you a recompense worth twenty oxen, and pay you back in bronze and gold until your heart is warmed. Until then no one can blame you for being angry.”

60 Odysseus of many wiles looked at him from under his brows and said: “Eurymachus, not even if you gave me all your fathers’ wealth, all that you have now and whatever more you could add to it from anywhere, not even so would I keep my hands from slaughter until the suitors had paid for all their outrage. Now the choice is before you, to fight face to face or to run, whoever can escape death and the fates. But I do not think any of you will escape sheer destruction.”

68 So he spoke, and their knees and their hearts went slack where they stood. Then Eurymachus spoke among them a second time:

70 “Friends, this man will not hold back his unconquerable hands. Now that he has the polished bow and the quiver, he will shoot from the polished threshold until he has killed us all. So let us remember the joy of battle. Draw your swords and hold up the tables against his arrows of swift death, and let us all fall on him together, and see if we can drive him off the threshold and out of the doorway and get into the town, and raise the alarm as fast as we can. Then this man would soon have shot his last.”

79 So he spoke, and he drew his sharp sword, bronze, honed on both edges, and sprang at him with a terrible cry. At the same moment noble Odysseus let fly an arrow and struck him in the chest beside the nipple, and drove the swift shaft into his liver. The sword dropped from his hand to the ground, and he doubled over and fell sprawling across the table, and spilled the food and the two-handled cup to the ground. He struck the earth with his forehead in agony, and kicking with both feet he shook the chair, and a mist poured over his eyes.

89 Then Amphinomus rushed at glorious Odysseus, springing straight at him, and he drew his sharp sword, to see if he might somehow make him give way from the doorway. But Telemachus was too quick for him: he struck him from behind with his bronze-tipped spear between the shoulders and drove it through his chest. He fell with a thud and struck the ground full with his forehead. Telemachus sprang back and left the long-shadowing spear where it was in Amphinomus, for he was badly afraid that, while he was pulling out the long-shadowing spear, one of the Achaeans might rush at him and drive a sword into him, or strike him as he bent forward. He set off running, and very quickly he reached his dear father, and standing close beside him he spoke, and his words had wings:

101 “Father, I will bring you a shield now, and two spears, and a helmet all of bronze that fits close to your temples; and as I go I will arm myself, and give other armor to the swineherd and the cowherd. It is better to be armed.”

105 Odysseus of many wiles answered him: “Run and bring them, while I still have arrows to defend myself, so they do not push me out of the doorway while I am alone.”

108 So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father, and he went to the storeroom where the famous armor lay. From there he took out four shields and eight spears and four bronze helmets crested with horsehair, and he went carrying them, and very quickly he reached his dear father. First of all he put the bronze on his own body; and the two servants likewise put on the fine armor, and they stood around wise, crafty-minded Odysseus.

116 As for Odysseus, as long as he had arrows to defend himself, he kept aiming and shooting down one suitor after another in his house, and they fell thick and close together. But when the arrows ran out as their lord kept shooting, he leaned the bow against the doorpost of the well-built hall to stand against the shining wall of the entrance, and he himself put a shield of four layers about his shoulders, and on his mighty head he set a well-made helmet with a horsehair crest, and the plume nodded terribly above it; and he took up two stout spears tipped with bronze.

126 Now there was a raised side door in the well-built wall, and at the very edge of the threshold of the well-built hall there was a way out into a passage, closed by well-fitted doors. Odysseus told the noble swineherd to watch this, standing close beside it, for there was only one way to come at it. Then Agelaus spoke among them and called out his word to all:

132 “Friends, will someone not go up through the side door and tell the people, and raise the alarm as fast as we can? Then this man would soon have shot his last.”

135 Then Melanthius, the goatherd, said to him: “It cannot be done, Zeus-nurtured Agelaus. The fine gates of the courtyard are terribly close, and the mouth of the passage is hard to get through; one man could hold back all of us, if he were brave. But come, let me bring you armor from the storeroom to arm yourselves; for it is in there, I think, and nowhere else, that Odysseus and his shining son have put the armor away.”

142 With these words Melanthius, the goatherd, went up by the gaps in the hall wall to the storerooms of Odysseus. From there he took out twelve shields, as many spears, and as many bronze helmets crested with horsehair, and he went off, and very quickly he brought them and gave them to the suitors. And then the knees and the heart of Odysseus went slack, when he saw them putting on armor and brandishing long spears in their hands; the task before him looked huge. At once he spoke to Telemachus, and his words had wings:

151 “Telemachus, surely one of the women in the halls is stirring up an evil fight against us, or else Melanthius.”

153 Then thoughtful Telemachus answered him: “Father, I myself made this mistake, and no one else is to blame. I left the close-fitted door of the storeroom ajar, and their lookout was better than ours. But go, noble Eumaeus, shut the door of the storeroom, and see whether it is one of the women who is doing this, or Melanthius, the son of Dolius, as I think.”

160 So they spoke with one another, and Melanthius, the goatherd, went back again to the storeroom to bring more of the fine armor. But the noble swineherd saw him, and at once he spoke to Odysseus, who was near:

164 “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, resourceful Odysseus, there is that ruinous man again, the one we suspected, going to the storeroom. Tell me truly: shall I kill him, if I prove the stronger, or bring him here to you, so that he may pay for the many outrages he has devised in your house?”

170 Odysseus of many wiles answered him: “Telemachus and I will keep the lordly suitors penned inside the hall, however eager they are. You two twist his feet and his hands behind him and throw him into the storeroom, and tie boards to his back, and fasten a plaited rope to him and haul him up a tall pillar until he is close to the rafters, so that he may stay alive a long time and suffer cruel pains.”

178 So he spoke, and they listened closely and obeyed. They went to the storeroom, and the man inside did not see them. He was searching for armor in the far corner of the storeroom, and the two of them stood waiting on either side of the doorposts. When Melanthius, the goatherd, was stepping over the threshold, carrying a fine helmet in one hand and in the other a broad old shield, flecked with mildew, which the hero Laertes had carried as a young man (it had long been lying there, and the stitching of its straps had come loose), the two of them sprang on him and seized him, and dragged him inside by the hair, and threw him on the floor in anguish, and bound his feet and hands together with a painful bond, twisting them well behind him, as the son of Laertes, much-enduring noble Odysseus, had ordered. They fastened a plaited rope to him and hauled him up a tall pillar until he was close to the rafters. And mocking him, you spoke to him, Eumaeus, swineherd:

195 “Now, Melanthius, you will keep watch all night long, lying in a soft bed, as is right for you. Nor will early-born Dawn of the golden throne escape you, coming up from the streams of Ocean, at the hour when you bring the goats to the suitors to make ready a feast in the house.”

200 So he was left there, stretched in the deadly bond, and the two of them put on their armor, shut the shining door, and went to wise, crafty-minded Odysseus. There they stood, breathing fury, four on the threshold, and in the hall the others, many and brave. And close to them came Athena, daughter of Zeus, in the likeness of Mentor, in form and in voice. Odysseus rejoiced when he saw her, and said:

208 “Mentor, help me fend off ruin, and remember your dear companion, who often did you good. You are my own age.”

210 So he spoke, guessing that it was Athena, rouser of armies. The suitors on the other side shouted in the halls, and the first to rebuke her was Agelaus, son of Damastor:

213 “Mentor, do not let Odysseus talk you into fighting the suitors and defending him. For this, I think, is how our purpose will be fulfilled: when we have killed these men, father and son, then you will be killed among them for what you have in mind to do in the halls; you will pay for it with your own head. And when we have taken away your strength with the bronze, all your possessions, those in your house and those outside it, we will mix with the goods of Odysseus; and we will not let your sons live in your halls, nor your daughters, nor your loyal wife go about the town of Ithaca.”

224 So he spoke, and Athena grew all the angrier in her heart, and she scolded Odysseus with angry words:

226 “Odysseus, there is no firm strength in you any more, no valor, such as there was when for nine years you fought the Trojans for white-armed Helen, daughter of a noble father, without ceasing, always; and you killed many men in dreadful warfare, and by your counsel the wide-streeted city of Priam was taken. How is it that now, when you have come to your own house and your own possessions, you lament instead of showing your valor against the suitors? Come here, friend, stand beside me and watch my work, so that you may see what kind of man Mentor, son of Alcimus, is in repaying kindnesses among enemies.”

236 She spoke, but she did not yet give him the victory that turns a battle; she was still testing the strength and valor of Odysseus and of his glorious son. She herself flew up and sat on a rafter of the smoky hall, like a swallow to look at.

241 Agelaus, son of Damastor, urged the suitors on, and Eurynomus and Amphimedon and Demoptolemus, and Peisander, son of Polyctor, and wise Polybus; for these were by far the best in prowess of the suitors who were still alive and fighting for their lives. The rest the bow and the thick-falling arrows had already brought down. Agelaus spoke among them and called out his word to all:

248 “Friends, now this man will hold back his unconquerable hands. Mentor has gone off, after his empty boasting, and they are left alone at the front of the doors. So do not all throw your long spears at once, but come, you six throw first, and see if Zeus will grant that Odysseus is hit and we win the glory. The others are no worry, once he has fallen.”

255 So he spoke, and they all threw as he ordered, eagerly; but Athena made all their throws go for nothing. One of them hit the doorpost of the well-built hall, another the close-fitted door, and another’s ash spear, heavy with bronze, struck the wall. But when they had dodged the spears of the suitors, much-enduring noble Odysseus began to speak among them:

262 “Friends, now I say that we too should throw into the crowd of the suitors, who are eager to strip us of our armor, on top of their former wrongs.”

265 So he spoke, and they all threw their sharp spears, aiming straight ahead. Odysseus killed Demoptolemus, Telemachus Euryades, the swineherd Elatus, and the man who herded the cattle killed Peisander. These all bit the vast floor together with their teeth, and the suitors fell back into the far end of the hall; and the others rushed forward and pulled the spears out of the dead.

272 Again the suitors threw their sharp spears, eagerly, and Athena made most of their throws go for nothing. One of them hit the doorpost of the well-built hall, another the close-fitted door, and another’s ash spear, heavy with bronze, struck the wall. But Amphimedon hit Telemachus on the hand at the wrist, a grazing blow, and the bronze tore the surface of the skin. And Ctesippus with his long spear grazed Eumaeus on the shoulder over his shield; the spear flew over and fell to the ground. Then again those around wise, crafty-minded Odysseus threw their sharp spears into the crowd of the suitors. Then Odysseus, sacker of cities, struck Eurydamas, Telemachus Amphimedon, and the swineherd Polybus; and then the man who herded the cattle struck Ctesippus in the chest, and spoke over him in triumph:

287 “Son of Polytherses, lover of jeers, never again give way to folly and talk big, but leave the word to the gods, since they are far stronger. This is your guest gift in return for the hoof you once gave to godlike Odysseus when he was going begging through the house.”

292 So spoke the herdsman of the curving-horned cattle. And Odysseus wounded the son of Damastor at close quarters with his long spear, and Telemachus wounded Leiocritus, son of Evenor, with his spear full in the flank and drove the bronze clean through; he fell face down and struck the ground full with his forehead. Then Athena held up the man-destroying aegis, high up from the roof, and their minds were crazed with terror. They fled through the hall like cattle in a herd that the darting gadfly sets upon and drives wild in the season of spring, when the days are long. And the others, like vultures with crooked talons and curved beaks that come down from the mountains and swoop upon the birds, and the birds, shrinking from the clouds, dart low over the plain, but the vultures leap on them and kill them, and there is no defense and no escape, and men take delight in the hunt: so they rushed upon the suitors through the house and struck them right and left, and a hideous groaning rose as heads were struck, and the whole floor ran with blood.

310 But Leodes rushed forward and clasped the knees of Odysseus, and he begged him, and his words had wings:

312 “I clasp your knees, Odysseus; respect me and have pity on me. I tell you that I never said or did anything reckless to any of the women in the halls; no, I tried to stop the other suitors when any of them did such things. But they would not listen to me and keep their hands from evil, and so through their recklessness they have met a shameful doom. And I, their soothsayer, who have done nothing, I will lie among them, since there is no thanks hereafter for good deeds.”

320 Odysseus of many wiles looked at him from under his brows and said: “If you claim to be their soothsayer, you must often have prayed in the halls that the end of my sweet homecoming might be far away, and that my dear wife might go off with you and bear you children. So you will not escape death that lays men out in pain.”

326 So he spoke, and he took up in his strong hand a sword that lay there, which Agelaus had let fall to the ground when he was killed, and with it he struck him full on the neck, and while he was still speaking his head was mingled with the dust.

330 But the bard, Phemius, son of Terpis, who had been made to sing among the suitors, was still trying to escape black fate. He stood with the clear-toned lyre in his hands close to the raised side door, and his mind was divided: should he slip out of the hall and sit down by the well-built altar of great Zeus of the Courtyard, where Laertes and Odysseus had burned many thigh bones of oxen, or should he rush forward and beg Odysseus at his knees? As he pondered, this seemed to him the better way, to clasp the knees of Odysseus, son of Laertes. So he laid the hollow lyre on the ground between the mixing bowl and the silver-studded chair, and he himself rushed forward and clasped Odysseus by the knees, and he begged him, and his words had wings:

344 “I clasp your knees, Odysseus; respect me and have pity on me. You yourself will be sorry afterward if you kill a bard, I who sing for gods and men. I am self-taught, and a god has planted in my mind all kinds of songs. I am fit to sing before you as before a god; so do not be eager to cut my throat. Telemachus too, your dear son, could tell you this, that it was not by my own will or from any need that I kept coming to your house to sing for the suitors at their feasts; they were far more and far stronger, and they brought me by force.”

354 So he spoke, and the sacred strength of Telemachus heard him, and at once he spoke to his father, who was near:

356 “Hold off, and do not strike this man with the bronze; he is innocent. And we will save Medon too, the herald, who always took care of me in our house when I was a child, unless Philoetius or the swineherd has already killed him, or he has run into you as you raged through the house.”

361 So he spoke, and Medon heard him, for his mind was wise. He was lying cowering under a chair, wrapped in the newly flayed hide of an ox, trying to escape black fate. At once he got up from under the chair and quickly threw off the oxhide, and then he rushed forward and clasped Telemachus by the knees, and he begged him, and his words had wings:

367 “Friend, here I am. Hold off, and tell your father not to harm me with the sharp bronze in the greatness of his strength, in his anger at the suitors who wasted his possessions in the halls and, fools, paid no honor to you.”

371 Odysseus of many wiles smiled at him and said: “Take heart, since this man has saved you and kept you safe, so that you may know in your heart, and tell another as well, how much better good deeds are than evil ones. But go out of the halls and sit outside in the courtyard, away from the slaughter, you and the bard of many songs, while I finish the work in the house that I must do.”

378 So he spoke, and the two of them went out of the hall and sat down by the altar of great Zeus, looking around on every side, still expecting death at every moment. And Odysseus looked all through his house, to see whether any man was still alive and hiding, trying to escape black fate. But he saw them all, every one, fallen in the blood and the dust, many of them, like fish that fishermen have drawn out of the gray sea in their many-meshed net onto the curving beach; they all lie heaped on the sand, longing for the waves of the salt sea, and the shining Sun takes away their life: so the suitors lay then, heaped on one another. Then Odysseus of many wiles said to Telemachus:

391 “Telemachus, come, call the nurse Eurycleia for me, so that I may tell her what I have in mind.” So he spoke, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father, and he shook the door and called to the nurse Eurycleia:

395 “Get up and come here, old woman born long ago, you who keep watch over the women servants in our halls. Come, my father is calling you; he has something to say to you.”

398 So he spoke, and her word stayed without wings, and she opened the doors of the stately halls and came, and Telemachus led the way before her. Then she found Odysseus among the bodies of the slain, spattered with blood and gore like a lion that comes from feeding on an ox of the fields, and all his chest and his jaws on either side are bloody, and he is terrible to look in the face: so Odysseus was spattered, from his feet up to his hands. When she saw the dead and the boundless blood, she was ready to raise a cry of triumph, since she saw a great work done; but Odysseus held her back and checked her, eager as she was, and he spoke to her, and his words had wings:

411 “Rejoice in your heart, old woman, but hold back and do not cry out. It is not holy to exult over men who have been killed. These men the fate of the gods has brought down, and their own cruel deeds; for they honored no one among men on earth, bad or good, whoever came among them; and so through their recklessness they have met a shameful doom. But come, tell me which of the women in the halls dishonor me and which are guiltless.”

419 Then the dear nurse Eurycleia said to him: “Then I will tell you the truth, child. You have fifty women servants in the halls, whom we have taught to do their work, to card wool and to bear their servitude. Of these, twelve in all have set foot on the way of shamelessness. They respect neither me nor Penelope herself. Telemachus was only lately grown. His mother would not let him give orders to the women servants. But come, let me go up to the shining upper rooms and tell your wife, on whom some god has sent sleep.”

430 Odysseus of many wiles answered her: “Do not wake her yet. But tell the women to come here, the ones who were devising shameful things before.”

433 So he spoke, and the old woman went through the hall to tell the women and urge them to come. And he called Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd to him and spoke to them, and his words had wings:

437 “Begin now to carry out the dead, and order the women to help; and then have them clean the beautiful chairs and the tables with water and porous sponges. And when you have set the whole house in order, lead the women servants out of the well-built hall to a place between the round house and the excellent wall of the courtyard, and strike them with your long-edged swords until you have taken the life out of all of them and they have forgotten Aphrodite, whom they had in their power with the suitors when they lay with them in secret.”

446 So he spoke, and the women came all together in a crowd, lamenting terribly and shedding big tears. First they carried out the bodies of the dead and laid them under the portico of the well-fenced courtyard, propping them against one another; and Odysseus himself gave the orders and hurried them on, and they carried them out by force. And then they cleaned the beautiful chairs and the tables with water and porous sponges. Then Telemachus and the cowherd and the swineherd scraped the floor of the well-built house with hoes, and the women servants carried the scrapings and put them outside the door. And when they had set the whole hall in order, they led the women servants out of the well-built hall to a place between the round house and the excellent wall of the courtyard, and penned them in a narrow space from which there was no escape. Then thoughtful Telemachus began to speak among them:

462 “I will not take the life of these women by a clean death, who have poured insults on my head and on my mother, and slept with the suitors.”

465 So he spoke, and he tied the cable of a dark-prowed ship to a great pillar and threw it around the round house, stretching it high up, so that none of them could touch the ground with her feet. And as when long-winged thrushes or doves fly into a net set up in a thicket, as they are making for their roost, and a hateful bed takes them in, so the women held their heads in a row, and nooses were around all their necks, so that they might die most pitifully. They twitched with their feet for a little while, not very long.

474 And they led Melanthius out through the porch and the courtyard. They cut off his nose and his ears with the pitiless bronze and tore out his genitals for the dogs to eat raw, and they cut off his hands and feet in the fury of their hearts.

478 Then they washed their hands and feet and went into the house to Odysseus, and the work was done. And he said to the dear nurse Eurycleia: “Bring sulfur, old woman, the cure for foulness, and bring me fire, so that I may purify the hall with sulfur. And tell Penelope to come here with her women attendants, and urge all the women servants to come through the house.” Then the dear nurse Eurycleia said to him: “Yes, my child, all that you have said is right. But come, let me bring you a cloak and a tunic to wear; do not stand like this in the halls with your broad shoulders wrapped in rags. That would be a thing for blame.”

490 Odysseus of many wiles answered her: “First of all now let there be a fire in the halls for me.”

492 So he spoke, and the dear nurse Eurycleia did not disobey; she brought fire and sulfur, and Odysseus thoroughly purified the hall and the house and the courtyard. Then the old woman went back through the beautiful house of Odysseus to tell the women and urge them to come; and they came out of the hall holding torches in their hands. They thronged around Odysseus and welcomed him, and kissed his head and shoulders in welcome, and took his hands; and a sweet longing took hold of him to weep and groan, for in his heart he knew them all.