The Odyssey

TELEMACHUS VISITS NESTOR AT PYLOS.


but as the sun was rising from the fair sea24 into the firmament of
heaven to shed light on mortals and immortals, they reached Pylos the
city of Neleus. Now the people of Pylos were gathered on the sea shore
to offer sacrifice of black bulls to Neptune lord of the Earthquake.
There were nine guilds with five hundred men in each, and there were
nine bulls to each guild. As they were eating the inward meats25 and
burning the thigh bones [on the embers] in the name of Neptune,
Telemachus and his crew arrived, furled their sails, brought their ship
to anchor, and went ashore.

Minerva led the way and Telemachus followed her. Presently she said,
“Telemachus, you must not be in the least shy or nervous; you have
taken this voyage to try and find out where your father is buried and
how he came by his end; so go straight up to Nestor that we may see
what he has got to tell us. Beg of him to speak the truth, and he will
tell no lies, for he is an excellent person.”

“But how, Mentor,” replied Telemachus, “dare I go up to Nestor, and how
am I to address him? I have never yet been used to holding long
conversations with people, and am ashamed to begin questioning one who
is so much older than myself.”

“Some things, Telemachus,” answered Minerva, “will be suggested to you
by your own instinct, and heaven will prompt you further; for I am
assured that the gods have been with you from the time of your birth
until now.”

She then went quickly on, and Telemachus followed in her steps till
they reached the place where the guilds of the Pylian people were
assembled. There they found Nestor sitting with his sons, while his
company round him were busy getting dinner ready, and putting pieces of
meat on to the spits26 while other pieces were cooking. When they saw
the strangers they crowded round them, took them by the hand and bade
them take their places. Nestor’s son Pisistratus at once offered his
hand to each of them, and seated them on some soft sheepskins that were
lying on the sands near his father and his brother Thrasymedes. Then he
gave them their portions of the inward meats and poured wine for them
into a golden cup, handing it to Minerva first, and saluting her at the
same time.

“Offer a prayer, sir,” said he, “to King Neptune, for it is his feast
that you are joining; when you have duly prayed and made your drink
offering, pass the cup to your friend that he may do so also. I doubt
not that he too lifts his hands in prayer, for man cannot live without
God in the world. Still he is younger than you are, and is much of an
age with myself, so I will give you the precedence.”

As he spoke he handed her the cup. Minerva thought it very right and
proper of him to have given it to herself first;27 she accordingly
began praying heartily to Neptune. “O thou,” she cried, “that
encirclest the earth, vouchsafe to grant the prayers of thy servants
that call upon thee. More especially we pray thee send down thy grace
on Nestor and on his sons; thereafter also make the rest of the Pylian
people some handsome return for the goodly hecatomb they are offering
you. Lastly, grant Telemachus and myself a happy issue, in respect of
the matter that has brought us in our ship to Pylos.”

When she had thus made an end of praying, she handed the cup to
Telemachus and he prayed likewise. By and by, when the outer meats were
roasted and had been taken off the spits, the carvers gave every man
his portion and they all made an excellent dinner. As soon as they had
had enough to eat and drink, Nestor, knight of Gerene, began to speak.

“Now,” said he, “that our guests have done their dinner, it will be
best to ask them who they are. Who, then, sir strangers, are you, and
from what port have you sailed? Are you traders? or do you sail the
seas as rovers with your hand against every man, and every man’s hand
against you?”

Telemachus answered boldly, for Minerva had given him courage to ask
about his father and get himself a good name.

“Nestor,” said he, “son of Neleus, honour to the Achaean name, you ask
whence we come, and I will tell you. We come from Ithaca under
Neritum,28 and the matter about which I would speak is of private not
public import. I seek news of my unhappy father Ulysses, who is said to
have sacked the town of Troy in company with yourself. We know what
fate befell each one of the other heroes who fought at Troy, but as
regards Ulysses heaven has hidden from us the knowledge even that he is
dead at all, for no one can certify us in what place he perished, nor
say whether he fell in battle on the mainland, or was lost at sea amid
the waves of Amphitrite. Therefore I am suppliant at your knees, if
haply you may be pleased to tell me of his melancholy end, whether you
saw it with your own eyes, or heard it from some other traveller, for
he was a man born to trouble. Do not soften things out of any pity for
me, but tell me in all plainness exactly what you saw. If my brave
father Ulysses ever did you loyal service, either by word or deed, when
you Achaeans were harassed among the Trojans, bear it in mind now as in
my favour and tell me truly all.”

“My friend,” answered Nestor, “you recall a time of much sorrow to my
mind, for the brave Achaeans suffered much both at sea, while
privateering under Achilles, and when fighting before the great city of
king Priam. Our best men all of them fell there—Ajax, Achilles,
Patroclus peer of gods in counsel, and my own dear son Antilochus, a
man singularly fleet of foot and in fight valiant. But we suffered much
more than this; what mortal tongue indeed could tell the whole story?
Though you were to stay here and question me for five years, or even
six, I could not tell you all that the Achaeans suffered, and you would
turn homeward weary of my tale before it ended. Nine long years did we
try every kind of stratagem, but the hand of heaven was against us;
during all this time there was no one who could compare with your
father in subtlety—if indeed you are his son—I can hardly believe my
eyes—and you talk just like him too—no one would say that people of
such different ages could speak so much alike. He and I never had any
kind of difference from first to last neither in camp nor council, but
in singleness of heart and purpose we advised the Argives how all might
be ordered for the best.

“When, however, we had sacked the city of Priam, and were setting sail
in our ships as heaven had dispersed us, then Jove saw fit to vex the
Argives on their homeward voyage; for they had not all been either wise
or understanding, and hence many came to a bad end through the
displeasure of Jove’s daughter Minerva, who brought about a quarrel
between the two sons of Atreus.

“The sons of Atreus called a meeting which was not as it should be, for
it was sunset and the Achaeans were heavy with wine. When they
explained why they had called the people together, it seemed that
Menelaus was for sailing homeward at once, and this displeased
Agamemnon, who thought that we should wait till we had offered
hecatombs to appease the anger of Minerva. Fool that he was, he might
have known that he would not prevail with her, for when the gods have
made up their minds they do not change them lightly. So the two stood
bandying hard words, whereon the Achaeans sprang to their feet with a
cry that rent the air, and were of two minds as to what they should do.

“That night we rested and nursed our anger, for Jove was hatching
mischief against us. But in the morning some of us drew our ships into
the water and put our goods with our women on board, while the rest,
about half in number, stayed behind with Agamemnon. We—the other
half—embarked and sailed; and the ships went well, for heaven had
smoothed the sea. When we reached Tenedos we offered sacrifices to the
gods, for we were longing to get home; cruel Jove, however, did not yet
mean that we should do so, and raised a second quarrel in the course of
which some among us turned their ships back again, and sailed away
under Ulysses to make their peace with Agamemnon; but I, and all the
ships that were with me pressed forward, for I saw that mischief was
brewing. The son of Tydeus went on also with me, and his crews with
him. Later on Menelaus joined us at Lesbos, and found us making up our
minds about our course—for we did not know whether to go outside Chios
by the island of Psyra, keeping this to our left, or inside Chios, over
against the stormy headland of Mimas. So we asked heaven for a sign,
and were shown one to the effect that we should be soonest out of
danger if we headed our ships across the open sea to Euboea. This we
therefore did, and a fair wind sprang up which gave us a quick passage
during the night to Geraestus,29 where we offered many sacrifices to
Neptune for having helped us so far on our way. Four days later Diomed
and his men stationed their ships in Argos, but I held on for Pylos,
and the wind never fell light from the day when heaven first made it
fair for me.

“Therefore, my dear young friend, I returned without hearing anything
about the others. I know neither who got home safely nor who were lost
but, as in duty bound, I will give you without reserve the reports that
have reached me since I have been here in my own house. They say the
Myrmidons returned home safely under Achilles’ son Neoptolemus; so also
did the valiant son of Poias, Philoctetes. Idomeneus, again, lost no
men at sea, and all his followers who escaped death in the field got
safe home with him to Crete. No matter how far out of the world you
live, you will have heard of Agamemnon and the bad end he came to at
the hands of Aegisthus—and a fearful reckoning did Aegisthus presently
pay. See what a good thing it is for a man to leave a son behind him to
do as Orestes did, who killed false Aegisthus the murderer of his noble
father. You too, then—for you are a tall smart-looking fellow—show your
mettle and make yourself a name in story.”

“Nestor son of Neleus,” answered Telemachus, “honour to the Achaean
name, the Achaeans applaud Orestes and his name will live through all
time for he has avenged his father nobly. Would that heaven might grant
me to do like vengeance on the insolence of the wicked suitors, who are
ill treating me and plotting my ruin; but the gods have no such
happiness in store for me and for my father, so we must bear it as best
we may.”

“My friend,” said Nestor, “now that you remind me, I remember to have
heard that your mother has many suitors, who are ill disposed towards
you and are making havoc of your estate. Do you submit to this tamely,
or are public feeling and the voice of heaven against you? Who knows
but what Ulysses may come back after all, and pay these scoundrels in
full, either single-handed or with a force of Achaeans behind him? If
Minerva were to take as great a liking to you as she did to Ulysses
when we were fighting before Troy (for I never yet saw the gods so
openly fond of any one as Minerva then was of your father), if she
would take as good care of you as she did of him, these wooers would
soon some of them forget their wooing.”

Telemachus answered, “I can expect nothing of the kind; it would be far
too much to hope for. I dare not let myself think of it. Even though
the gods themselves willed it no such good fortune could befall me.”

On this Minerva said, “Telemachus, what are you talking about? Heaven
has a long arm if it is minded to save a man; and if it were me, I
should not care how much I suffered before getting home, provided I
could be safe when I was once there. I would rather this, than get home
quickly, and then be killed in my own house as Agamemnon was by the
treachery of Aegisthus and his wife. Still, death is certain, and when
a man’s hour is come, not even the gods can save him, no matter how
fond they are of him.”

“Mentor,” answered Telemachus, “do not let us talk about it any more.
There is no chance of my father’s ever coming back; the gods have long
since counselled his destruction. There is something else, however,
about which I should like to ask Nestor, for he knows much more than
any one else does. They say he has reigned for three generations so
that it is like talking to an immortal. Tell me, therefore, Nestor, and
tell me true; how did Agamemnon come to die in that way? What was
Menelaus doing? And how came false Aegisthus to kill so far better a
man than himself? Was Menelaus away from Achaean Argos, voyaging
elsewhither among mankind, that Aegisthus took heart and killed
Agamemnon?”

“I will tell you truly,” answered Nestor, “and indeed you have yourself
divined how it all happened. If Menelaus when he got back from Troy had
found Aegisthus still alive in his house, there would have been no
barrow heaped up for him, not even when he was dead, but he would have
been thrown outside the city to dogs and vultures, and not a woman
would have mourned him, for he had done a deed of great wickedness; but
we were over there, fighting hard at Troy, and Aegisthus, who was
taking his ease quietly in the heart of Argos, cajoled Agamemnon’s wife
Clytemnestra with incessant flattery.

“At first she would have nothing to do with his wicked scheme, for she
was of a good natural disposition;30 moreover there was a bard with
her, to whom Agamemnon had given strict orders on setting out for Troy,
that he was to keep guard over his wife; but when heaven had counselled
her destruction, Aegisthus carried this bard off to a desert island and
left him there for crows and seagulls to batten upon—after which she
went willingly enough to the house of Aegisthus. Then he offered many
burnt sacrifices to the gods, and decorated many temples with
tapestries and gilding, for he had succeeded far beyond his
expectations.

“Meanwhile Menelaus and I were on our way home from Troy, on good terms
with one another. When we got to Sunium, which is the point of Athens,
Apollo with his painless shafts killed Phrontis the steersman of
Menelaus’ ship (and never man knew better how to handle a vessel in
rough weather) so that he died then and there with the helm in his
hand, and Menelaus, though very anxious to press forward, had to wait
in order to bury his comrade and give him his due funeral rites.
Presently, when he too could put to sea again, and had sailed on as far
as the Malean heads, Jove counselled evil against him and made it blow
hard till the waves ran mountains high. Here he divided his fleet and
took the one half towards Crete where the Cydonians dwell round about
the waters of the river Iardanus. There is a high headland hereabouts
stretching out into the sea from a place called Gortyn, and all along
this part of the coast as far as Phaestus the sea runs high when there
is a south wind blowing, but after Phaestus the coast is more
protected, for a small headland can make a great shelter. Here this
part of the fleet was driven on to the rocks and wrecked; but the crews
just managed to save themselves. As for the other five ships, they were
taken by winds and seas to Egypt, where Menelaus gathered much gold and
substance among people of an alien speech. Meanwhile Aegisthus here at
home plotted his evil deed. For seven years after he had killed
Agamemnon he ruled in Mycene, and the people were obedient under him,
but in the eighth year Orestes came back from Athens to be his bane,
and killed the murderer of his father. Then he celebrated the funeral
rites of his mother and of false Aegisthus by a banquet to the people
of Argos, and on that very day Menelaus came home,31 with as much
treasure as his ships could carry.

“Take my advice then, and do not go travelling about for long so far
from home, nor leave your property with such dangerous people in your
house; they will eat up everything you have among them, and you will
have been on a fool’s errand. Still, I should advise you by all means
to go and visit Menelaus, who has lately come off a voyage among such
distant peoples as no man could ever hope to get back from, when the
winds had once carried him so far out of his reckoning; even birds
cannot fly the distance in a twelve-month, so vast and terrible are the
seas that they must cross. Go to him, therefore, by sea, and take your
own men with you; or if you would rather travel by land you can have a
chariot, you can have horses, and here are my sons who can escort you
to Lacedaemon where Menelaus lives. Beg of him to speak the truth, and
he will tell you no lies, for he is an excellent person.”

As he spoke the sun set and it came on dark, whereon Minerva said,
“Sir, all that you have said is well; now, however, order the tongues
of the victims to be cut, and mix wine that we may make drink-offerings
to Neptune, and the other immortals, and then go to bed, for it is bed
time. People should go away early and not keep late hours at a
religious festival.”

Thus spoke the daughter of Jove, and they obeyed her saying. Men
servants poured water over the hands of the guests, while pages filled
the mixing-bowls with wine and water, and handed it round after giving
every man his drink offering; then they threw the tongues of the
victims into the fire, and stood up to make their drink offerings. When
they had made their offerings and had drunk each as much as he was
minded, Minerva and Telemachus were for going on board their ship, but
Nestor caught them up at once and stayed them.

“Heaven and the immortal gods,” he exclaimed, “forbid that you should
leave my house to go on board of a ship. Do you think I am so poor and
short of clothes, or that I have so few cloaks and as to be unable to
find comfortable beds both for myself and for my guests? Let me tell
you I have store both of rugs and cloaks, and shall not permit the son
of my old friend Ulysses to camp down on the deck of a ship—not while I
live—nor yet will my sons after me, but they will keep open house as I
have done.”

Then Minerva answered, “Sir, you have spoken well, and it will be much
better that Telemachus should do as you have said; he, therefore, shall
return with you and sleep at your house, but I must go back to give
orders to my crew, and keep them in good heart. I am the only older
person among them; the rest are all young men of Telemachus’ own age,
who have taken this voyage out of friendship; so I must return to the
ship and sleep there. Moreover to-morrow I must go to the Cauconians
where I have a large sum of money long owing to me. As for Telemachus,
now that he is your guest, send him to Lacedaemon in a chariot, and let
one of your sons go with him. Be pleased to also provide him with your
best and fleetest horses.”

When she had thus spoken, she flew away in the form of an eagle, and
all marvelled as they beheld it. Nestor was astonished, and took
Telemachus by the hand. “My friend,” said he, “I see that you are going
to be a great hero some day, since the gods wait upon you thus while
you are still so young. This can have been none other of those who
dwell in heaven than Jove’s redoubtable daughter, the Trito-born, who
shewed such favour towards your brave father among the Argives. Holy
queen,” he continued, “vouchsafe to send down thy grace upon myself, my
good wife, and my children. In return, I will offer you in sacrifice a
broad-browed heifer of a year old, unbroken, and never yet brought by
man under the yoke. I will gild her horns, and will offer her up to you
in sacrifice.”

Thus did he pray, and Minerva heard his prayer. He then led the way to
his own house, followed by his sons and sons in law. When they had got
there and had taken their places on the benches and seats, he mixed
them a bowl of sweet wine that was eleven years old when the
housekeeper took the lid off the jar that held it. As he mixed the
wine, he prayed much and made drink offerings to Minerva, daughter of
Aegis-bearing Jove. Then, when they had made their drink offerings and
had drunk each as much as he was minded, the others went home to bed
each in his own abode; but Nestor put Telemachus to sleep in the room
that was over the gateway along with Pisistratus, who was the only
unmarried son now left him. As for himself, he slept in an inner room
of the house, with the queen his wife by his side.

Now when the child of morning rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, Nestor left
his couch and took his seat on the benches of white and polished marble
that stood in front of his house. Here aforetime sat Neleus, peer of
gods in counsel, but he was now dead, and had gone to the house of
Hades; so Nestor sat in his seat sceptre in hand, as guardian of the
public weal. His sons as they left their rooms gathered round him,
Echephron, Stratius, Perseus, Aretus, and Thrasymedes; the sixth son
was Pisistratus, and when Telemachus joined them they made him sit with
them. Nestor then addressed them.

“My sons,” said he, “make haste to do as I shall bid you. I wish first
and foremost to propitiate the great goddess Minerva, who manifested
herself visibly to me during yesterday’s festivities. Go, then, one or
other of you to the plain, tell the stockman to look me out a heifer,
and come on here with it at once. Another must go to Telemachus’ ship,
and invite all the crew, leaving two men only in charge of the vessel.
Some one else will run and fetch Laerceus the goldsmith to gild the
horns of the heifer. The rest, stay all of you where you are; tell the
maids in the house to prepare an excellent dinner, and to fetch seats,
and logs of wood for a burnt offering. Tell them also to bring me some
clear spring water.”

On this they hurried off on their several errands. The heifer was
brought in from the plain, and Telemachus’s crew came from the ship;
the goldsmith brought the anvil, hammer, and tongs, with which he
worked his gold, and Minerva herself came to accept the sacrifice.
Nestor gave out the gold, and the smith gilded the horns of the heifer
that the goddess might have pleasure in their beauty. Then Stratius and
Echephron brought her in by the horns; Aretus fetched water from the
house in a ewer that had a flower pattern on it, and in his other hand
he held a basket of barley meal; sturdy Thrasymedes stood by with a
sharp axe, ready to strike the heifer, while Perseus held a bucket.
Then Nestor began with washing his hands and sprinkling the barley
meal, and he offered many a prayer to Minerva as he threw a lock from
the heifer’s head upon the fire.

When they had done praying and sprinkling the barley meal32 Thrasymedes
dealt his blow, and brought the heifer down with a stroke that cut
through the tendons at the base of her neck, whereon the daughters and
daughters in law of Nestor, and his venerable wife Eurydice (she was
eldest daughter to Clymenus) screamed with delight. Then they lifted
the heifer’s head from off the ground, and Pisistratus cut her throat.
When she had done bleeding and was quite dead, they cut her up. They
cut out the thigh bones all in due course, wrapped them round in two
layers of fat, and set some pieces of raw meat on the top of them; then
Nestor laid them upon the wood fire and poured wine over them, while
the young men stood near him with five-pronged spits in their hands.
When the thighs were burned and they had tasted the inward meats, they
cut the rest of the meat up small, put the pieces on the spits and
toasted them over the fire.

Meanwhile lovely Polycaste, Nestor’s youngest daughter, washed
Telemachus. When she had washed him and anointed him with oil, she
brought him a fair mantle and shirt,33 and he looked like a god as he
came from the bath and took his seat by the side of Nestor. When the
outer meats were done they drew them off the spits and sat down to
dinner where they were waited upon by some worthy henchmen, who kept
pouring them out their wine in cups of gold. As soon as they had had
enough to eat and drink Nestor said, “Sons, put Telemachus’s horses to
the chariot that he may start at once.”

Thus did he speak, and they did even as he had said, and yoked the
fleet horses to the chariot. The housekeeper packed them up a provision
of bread, wine, and sweet meats fit for the sons of princes. Then
Telemachus got into the chariot, while Pisistratus gathered up the
reins and took his seat beside him. He lashed the horses on and they
flew forward nothing loth into the open country, leaving the high
citadel of Pylos behind them. All that day did they travel, swaying the
yoke upon their necks till the sun went down and darkness was over all
the land. Then they reached Pherae where Diocles lived, who was son to
Ortilochus and grandson to Alpheus. Here they passed the night and
Diocles entertained them hospitably. When the child of morning,
rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared, they again yoked their horses and drove
out through the gateway under the echoing gatehouse.34 Pisistratus
lashed the horses on and they flew forward nothing loth; presently they
came to the corn lands of the open country, and in the course of time
completed their journey, so well did their steeds take them.35

Now when the sun had set and darkness was over the land,