a cap of goatskin. He was wallowing
in grief. The veteran, Odysseus,
seeing his father worn by age and burdened
by desperate, heartfelt sorrow, stopped beneath
a towering pear tree, weeping. Then he wondered
whether to kiss his father, twine around him,
and tell him that he had come home again,
and everything that happened on the way—
or question him. He thought it best to start240
by testing him with teasing and abuse.
With this in mind, Odysseus approached him,
as he was digging round the plant, head down.
His famous son stood at his side and said,
“Old man, you know your trade and take good care
of this neat garden. Every plant and vine,
and tree—the figs, the pears, the olive trees—
and bed of herbs is nicely tended. But
I have to say something—please do not get
angry at me—you do not take good care250
of your own self. You are unkempt, old man.
Your skin is rough and dirty and your clothes
are rags. Your master is neglecting you,
although you are not lazy. In your height
and face, you seem a leader, not a slave.
You look like someone who would bathe and eat
and sleep on fluffy pillows and fine sheets,
as is appropriate for older people.
But tell me this: whose slave are you? Whose garden
do you take care of? Also, have I come260
to Ithaca, as somebody I met
was telling me just now? But he was not
a helpful man: when I was asking him
about a friend of mine, an old guest-friend,
whether he is alive or dead in Hades,
this fellow would not say, or even listen.
A while ago, in my own native land,
I had a guest to stay with me, who was
my dearest friend of all my visitors.
He said he was from Ithaca, and that270
Laertes was his father. I had brought him
into my house, and welcomed him with warmth;
I can afford to be quite generous.
I gave him seven heaps of golden treasure,
a bowl made all of silver and inlaid
with flowers, twelve unfolded cloaks, and twelve
thick blankets, twelve fine mantles, and twelve tunics.
Also I gave him four well-trained slave women,
beautiful ones, whom he picked out himself.”
His father answered through his tears, “Yes, stranger,280
you have reached Ithaca. But cruel men
have taken over here. You will receive
nothing for all those gifts. If you had found him
still living in this land, he would have matched
your gifts and welcomed you with open arms
before he sent you home. Initial kindness
deserves due recompense. But tell me now,
how long is it since that unlucky man
visited you? Your guest was my own son!
Perhaps fish ate him out at sea, so far290
from home and family; or birds and beasts
ate him on land. His mother did not lay
his body out and weep for him; nor I,
his father; nor Penelope his wife,
a wise and wealthy woman. She has not
closed her own husband’s eyes or given him
a funeral. The dead deserve this honor.
But tell me now, who are you? From what city?
Who are your parents? Do you have a ship
docked somewhere, which conveyed you here with friends300
and crew? Or did you sail as passenger
on someone else’s ship, which now is gone?”
Lying Odysseus replied, “I will
tell you the truth completely. I am from
Alybas, and I have a palace there.
My name is Eperitus; I am son
of King Apheidas, son of Polypemon.
An evil spirit struck me and I came
from Sicily against my will. My ship
is docked away from town. It is five years310
since poor, unfortunate Odysseus
came to my home. As he was setting out
we saw good omens—birds towards the right—
so we were hopeful we would meet again
as friends, and share more gifts.”
At this, a cloud
of black grief wrapped itself around Laertes.
He poured two handfuls of the ashy dust
over his gray old head, and started sobbing.
Odysseus felt heart-wrenched to see his own
beloved father in this state; sharp pain320
pierced through his nostrils. He rushed up to him
and threw his arms around him, kissing him,
and saying,
“Father! It is me! I have
been gone for twenty years, and now am home,
in my own father’s country. Stop your tears.
I will explain, though we do not have long.
I killed the suitors in my house; I took
revenge for all the pain they caused.”
Laertes
answered, “If you are really my own son
Odysseus come home, show me a sign;330
let me be sure of it.”
Odysseus
was quick to answer. “First, look here: the scar
made by the boar’s white tusk when I had gone
to Mount Parnassus. You and Mother sent me,
to see my grandfather, Autolycus,
and get the gifts that he had promised me.
Next I will tell you all the trees that grow
in this fine orchard, which you gave to me.
When I was little, I would follow you
around the garden, asking all their names.340
We walked beneath these trees; you named them all
and promised them to me. Ten apple trees,
and thirteen pear trees, forty figs, and fifty
grapevines which ripen one by one—their clusters
change as the weather presses from the sky,
sent down by Zeus.”
At that, Laertes’ heart
and legs gave way; he recognized the signs
Odysseus had given as clear proof.
He threw both arms around his ruthless son,
who caught him as he fainted. When his breath350
and mind returned, he said,
“O Father Zeus,
you gods are truly rulers of Olympus,
if it is true the suitors have been punished
for all the monstrous things they did. But I
am terrified the Ithacans may soon
attack us here, and spread the news around
to all the towns of Cephallenia.”
Scheming Odysseus said, “Do not fear.
Come to the farmhouse, where I sent my boy
to go with the two herdsmen, to prepare360
dinner as fast as possible.”
With this,
the son and father walked towards the house.
They found them serving generous plates of meat
and mixing wine. The slave from Sicily
washed brave Laertes, and she rubbed his skin
with olive oil, and wrapped a handsome cloak
around him. Then Athena, standing near,
made him grow taller and more muscular.
When he emerged, Odysseus was shocked
to see him looking like a god. His words370
flew fast.
“Oh, Father! You look different!
A god has made you taller and more handsome.”
Thoughtful Laertes said, “O Father Zeus,
Athena, and Apollo! If I were
as strong as when I took the sturdy fortress
of Nericus, out on the mainland shore,
when I was king of Cephallenia,
I would have stood beside you yesterday,
with weapons on my back, and fought with you
against the suitors who were in our house!380
I would have brought so many of them down,
you would have been delighted!”
So they spoke.
The work of cooking dinner was complete,
and they sat down on chairs and stools, and reached
to take the food. The old slave Dolius
approached them with his sons, who had been working.
Their mother, the Sicilian old woman,
had gone to call them. She took care of them,
and also the old man, made weak by age.
They saw Odysseus and stared, then stopped, 390
astonished. But he spoke to reassure them.
“Old man, sit down and eat. The rest of you,
put your surprise entirely out of mind.
We have been waiting ages; we are eager
to have our dinner here.”
But Dolius
ran straight to him with arms outstretched, and took
Odysseus’ wrist and kissed his hand,