when fate and cruel death catch up with them.”
Telemachus said apprehensively,
“Mentor, this is upsetting. Change the subject.240
He has no real chance now of getting home.
The gods have fenced him round with death and darkness.
Let me ask Nestor something else—he is
wiser and more informed than anyone.
They say he ruled for three whole generations.
He looks to me like some immortal god.
So Nestor, son of Neleus, tell me truly,
how did the great King Agamemnon die?
And where was Menelaus? Was he lost,
away from Greece, when that Aegisthus dared250
to kill a king, a better man than him?
How did that wicked trickster’s plot succeed?”
Gerenian Nestor, lord of horses, answered,
“I will tell everything—though you can guess
what would have happened if fair Menelaus
had found Aegisthus living in his halls
on his return. And even when he died,
no one would bury him; he lay upon
the open plain without a tomb and far
from town for birds and dogs to eat. No Greek260
would mourn that monster. While we fought and labored
at Troy, this layabout sat safe in Argos,
seducing Clytemnestra, noble wife
of Agamemnon. For a while, she scorned
his foul suggestions, since her heart was good.
Moreover, when her husband went to Troy,
he left a poet, ordered to protect her.
But finally Fate forced the queen to yield.
Aegisthus left the poet to be eaten
by birds, abandoned on a desert island.270
He led the woman back to his own house
by mutual desire, and then he made
numerous offerings on holy altars
of animals and lovely gold and cloth:
he had succeeded far beyond his hopes.
And meanwhile, I left Troy with Menelaus;
we sailed together, best of friends. We reached
the holy cape of Athens, Sounion.
There Phoebus with his gentle arrows shot
and killed the pilot, Phrontis, as he held280
the ship’s helm as she sped along. No man
knew better how to steer through any storm,
so Menelaus stopped to bury him
with proper rites. At last he sailed again
across the wine-dark sea; but as his ships
rushed round the craggy heights of Malea,
far-seeing Zeus sent curses on his journey,
pouring out screaming winds and giant waves
the size of mountains—splitting up the fleet.
Some ships were hurled to Crete, to River Jardan,290
where the Cydonian people have their homes.
There steep rock rises sheer above the sea
near Gortyn in the misty deep; south winds
drive mighty waves towards the left-hand crag,
and push them west to Phaestus; one small rock
restrains the massive currents. All the ships
were smashed by waves against those rocks. The men
were almost drowned. Five other dark-prowed ships
were blown by wind and sea away to Egypt.
There Menelaus gathered wealth and gold300
and drifted with his ships through foreign lands.
Meanwhile at home, Aegisthus had been plotting.
He killed the son of Atreus and seized
control of rich Mycenae, where he reigned
for seven years. But in the eighth, Orestes
came to destroy him. He returned from Athens,
and killed his father’s murderer, then called
the Argives to a funeral, a feast
for clever, scheming, cowardly Aegisthus
whom he had killed, and his own hated mother.310
That very day, rambunctious Menelaus
arrived with all his ships crammed full of treasure.
The moral is, you must not stay away
too long, dear boy, when those proud suitors lurk
inside your house. They may divide your wealth
among themselves and make your journey useless.
But I suggest you go to Menelaus.
He recently returned from lands so distant
no one would even hope to get home safe
once driven by the winds so far off course,320
over such dangerous, enormous seas.
Birds migrate there and take a year or more
to travel back. Go visit him by ship
with your own crew. Or if you would prefer,
you can go there by land—here is a carriage.
My sons can guide you all the way to Sparta,
to Menelaus. Ask him for the truth.
He will not lie; he is an honest man.”
The sun went down and darkness fell. The goddess,
bright-eyed Athena, spoke to them.
“King Nestor,330
your speech was good and your advice was sound.
But now slice up the tongues and pour the wine
for Lord Poseidon and the other gods
before we rest—time now to go to bed.
The light is fading and it is not right
to linger at a banquet in the dark.”
The people listened to Athena’s words.
The house slaves poured fresh water on their hands,
and boys filled up the mixing bowls with wine,
and poured it into cups, and first prepared340
the sacrifice. They threw tongues on the fire,
then sprinkled wine, then each man drank his fill.
Then Zeus’ daughter and the godlike boy
both rose to go together to their ship.
But Nestor called to stop them.
“Zeus forbids it!
And all the other gods who live forever!
You cannot leave my house for your swift ship
as if I were a poor and ragged man
with so few beds and blankets in his home
that neither he nor guests can sleep in comfort.350
I have soft quilts and blankets in abundance.
The darling son of great Odysseus
must not sleep on the ship’s deck, while I live!
Not while my sons remain here in my house,
ready to welcome anyone who visits.”
The bright-eyed goddess answered him, “Old friend,
you are quite right. Telemachus should do
just as you say. That is a better plan.
He will stay here tonight and go to sleep
in your fine palace. But I must go back360
to tell the crew the news and keep them strong.
You see, I am the oldest in our party.
The rest are younger men, close friends together,
the same age as our brave Telemachus.
I will sleep there beside the hollow ship.
At dawn I have important obligations:
to visit with the great Cauconians.
The boy can be your guest. Then send him off
escorted by your son. Give him a carriage,
drawn by your strongest and most nimble horses.”370
Bright-eyed Athena flew away, transformed
into an ossifrage. Astonishment
seized all the people watching, even Nestor.
He seized Telemachus’ hand and said,
“Dear boy, I am now sure that you will be
a hero, since the gods are on your side
at your young age. This was a god, none other
than great Athena, true-born child of Zeus,
who also glorified your noble father.
Goddess, be kind to us as well, and grant380
honor to me, my good wife, and our sons.
Now I will sacrifice a yearling heifer,
broad-browed and still unyoked, and gild her horns
with gold to bless your journey.”
So he spoke,
and Pallas heard his prayer. Gerenian Nestor
led them and led his sons and sons-in-law
inside his own magnificent great hall.
When they were all inside, he seated them
on benches and on chairs arranged in order,
and he himself mixed up the bowl for them390
of sweet delicious wine. He had preserved it
eleven years. The slave girl opened it,
pulling the lid off. As the old man mixed,
he prayed and poured libations for Athena.
They all poured also, then they drank their fill,
then each went home to sleep in his own chamber.
Nestor the horseman made a special bed
right there for his dear friend, the warrior’s son:
a camp bed on the echoing portico,
beside Pisistratus, the only son400
not living with a wife but still at home.
Nestor himself slept by his wife, the queen,