The return of Odysseus; a Greek choric play in two continuous acts, separated by an interlude of visions

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THE RETURN OF
ODYSSEUS

A GREEK CHORIC PLAY

IN TWO CONTINUOUS ACTS SEPARATED BY

AN INTERLUDE OF VISIONS

By MARION MILLS MILLER

Litt. D. (Princeton)

Editor of "The Classics— Greek and Latin"; Translator of
"The Sicilian Idyls of Theocritus," etc.

THE STRATFORD COMPANY : BOSTON
1917

Copyright 1917 by THE STRATFORD COMPANY

Dramatic rights reserved by the author

MARION MILLS MILLER

Carnegie Hall, New York, N. Y.

AUG 14 1917
©CI. A4 7 0664

Preface

THIS play, while suited to the stage of the regular
theater, is especially intended for performance
in the open air, particularly within the stadia of our
universities.

All but two of the speaking characters being
women, it is peculiarly adapted to the requirements of
women's schools and colleges.

Unlike the plots of the original Greek dramas, the
story of the play is familiar to all persons possessing
a good education in English alone, and the passions
depicted, patriotism and comradeship, and love in all
its natural aspects — between husband and wife,
parent and child, mistress and maid, as well as be-
tween man and woman — appeal no less to the modern
than to the ancient mind. Motives such as incest and
matricide, which were favorites with the Greek popu-
lace, but which are abhorrent to people of the present
day, are entirely omitted, and the doctrines of the
hybris, pride, and of nemesis, its punishment, while
these have been introduced as the essential religious
elements of Greek drama, are paraphrased, as it were,
so that the ancient theological aspect of the "sin" is
obliterated in the universal ethical aspect. For
dramatic as well as moral reasons this treatment may
be justified. The purpose of the stage, says Shake-
speare, is to show ' ' the very age and body of the time
his form and pressure," not to galvanize an ancient

[iii]

iv THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

mummy to a mockery of life by a mechanical sub-
stitute for a spirit which, happily for good art and
good taste, as well as good morals, has forever fled.

In fine, the present play is written not for archeo-
logical scholars but for average Americans — people
who do not pretend to like what is alien to their na-
tures in order to acquire a reputation for academic
culture, and who, if they are to catch any measure of
the Greek spirit, must mark its rhythm by the pulse of
the red blood bounding in their own veins.

The play is open, from the scholar's standpoint, to
the charge of anachronism, both constructive and
specific, but this, it is maintained, is of form and fact
rather than of spirit. Sappho, Theocritus, the Greek
epigrammatists, and even the Latin Ovid, have been
sources of phrase and legend, as well as Homer,
although the action depicted is pre-Homeric. Even
Homer himself is represented as a contemporary of
Odysseus, the author's justification being the artistic
if not the scholarly one that in "poetic justice" the
blind bard ought to have come into personal contact
with the heroes whom he depicted and whom he robbed
of their proper laurels by ascribing their deeds to the
gods.

Feminism, the spirit of woman, is presented as a
dramatic motive, with the justification that it was
rampant in ancient Greece, as witness the comedy of
Aristophanes called "The Ecclesiazusae," or "The
Women in Congress," a play which in a modern
presentation that would paraphrase its timely wit
might be very properly denominated "The Suf-
fragettes. ' '

PREFACE v

In one lyric a modern invention (unless we recog-
nize as its prototype the artificial wings of Daedalus),
the aeroplane, is mentioned as a symbol of man's
domination of the air, which was deemed in ancient
times no less than in the present day a human right
and ultimate achievement.

In short, the essential purpose of The Return
of Odysseus has been to portray those phases of
ancient life and thought and spirit which are also
modern, doing so without regard to any special classic
era, and employing any means of representation
which universally obtains in order that these subjects
may be comprehended by the modern non-scholastic
mind.

Because of dramatic requirements certain liberties
have been taken with the classic story which forms
the plot of the play. For example, the slaughter of
the suitors takes place in the Banquet Hall, and this
did not permit of the preceding open-air scene de-
scribed by Homer, where Odysseus wins the contest
in archery.

Wherever practicable, however, the narrative of
Homer has been faithfully followed. To this end,
with a few adaptations necessary to make artistic
compositions, the descriptions of the "visions" of
Penelope (the various adventures of Odysseus on his
way home from Troy) are given in the words of the
Odyssey as rendered in that best of all English
translations, the version of Butcher and Lang, which,
being in Biblical prose, imparts to the English ear
that effect of sacred associations which the original
possessed for the Homer-reverencing Greek.

vi THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

The artistic spirit of the play proper is that of
Aristophanes rather than of the Greek tragedians,
especially in the employment of the chorus for
spectacular and aesthetic effects. Nevertheless none
of the Greek dramatic unities as observed by these
tragedians is violated. The scene is the same through-
out, and the action is continuous, taking place within
less than the time of one day. The far more im-
portant unities of the modern, or, better, the universal,
stage, are also observed. The actors are persons who
would naturally be present, and their exits and
entrances are appropriately timed; the "properties"
are few and simple and ready at hand, and the
theatrical devices — visions, statue-poses, and cho-
ruses — are far better suited to the occasion of their
introduction than is usually the case in modern light
opera, to which the play is aesthetically related.

The "visions," while with a few exceptions they
would be more artistically, though very incompletely,
presented in the form of tableaus or ' ' living pictures, ' '
may also be shown by the cinematograph, and thus
reduce the number of the cast.

The play is frankly English in verse form, for the
author, who has metrically translated several Greek
poets, believes that any attempt to reproduce in a
modern tongue the classic measures not only must fall
far short of the original in artistic effect, but must
also violate the principles of rhythm native to the
languages of the present day. Thus to write
"Sapphics" or Homeric hexameters in English, one
must substitute for accent (the native, essential ele-
ment of our prosody) the element of classic quantity,

PREFACE vii

which is worse than exotic, being utterly extinct and
unrevivable as a practical metrical principle. The
best that can be done in true English rhythmic transla-
tion is to produce, not the identical aesthetic effect of
the original Greek measures, but an equivalent effect.
Thus Chapman, an English dramatist of the intensely
dramatic Elizabethan age, translated Homer dramat-
ically, even theatrically, for example, swelling the
simple phrase, so thrilling to the reverential Greek,
"When holy Troy shall fall," to "When holy Troy
shall shed her towers for tears of overthrow" — a
grandiose figure of speech perfectly suited to the
boundless imagination of Chapman's time, and, in
spite of its recognized incongruity, appealing with a
measure of its former strength to the more controlled
artistic sense of the present day.

Now to impart a modern equivalent effect of Greek
poetry the blank verse usually employed by English
translators and imitators is, except in rare passages,
singularly inadequate, since, while the Greeks wrote
in what technically may be called blank verse, their
lines throughout were rich in tone-color, or sound
symbolism, which in the evolution of phonetic art has
received in English poetry the culminating addition
of end rime. Rimed verse, especially in choruses, gives
a nearer equivalent than English blank verse for the
lyric effect of the Greek original which is necessarily
lost in translation and imitation. Swinburne's
"Atalanta in Calydon," vibrant with sensuous
symbolism of sound and idea, reproduces the animated
effect of Greek poetry where the "Merope" of
Matthew Arnold, though severely classic in form, im-

viii THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

parts an impression of corpse-like coldness. The
recent revival of interest in ancient Greek tragedies
is largely due to the fact that these are presented in
the excellent rimed versions of Dr. Gilbert Murray.

The verse of the present play, while rife in rime,
is otherwise intentionally "flat" in tone-color, espe-
cially in the more dramatic scenes, since the action
has been held by the author to be more important
than poetic form, and the "reader's attention" has
therefore been concentrated upon it in obedience to
the dictum of Herbert Spencer. In every respect lan-
guage has been subordinated to that expression of
ideas which is produced by emotional gesture and
facial expression. The text is thus virtually a libretto
of the dance, taking the latter term in the inclusive
sense of all choric movements.

The action of the play, in its aesthetic aspect, is
Hellenic in a modified form, being a physical inter-
pretation of the Greek spirit according to the system
of Francois Delsarte, which, because of the non-es-
sential mystical claims made for it by its originator,
and the unintelligent application of it by many of his
disciples, has fallen somewhat into disrepute. Never-
theless this is capable of high development, and seems
to be the only system of bodily expression of emotion
by which the puerile ballet may be exalted into a
really high art-form. At least it is a coherent phi-
losophy of expression, and of this the choric art is
sadly in need. For example, few dancers understand,
except instinctively, the natural relation between
motion and pose, namely, that the latter should never
stand by itself, but always be preceded by action —

PREFACE ix

the more energetic the better. I have seen an enter-
tainment in which a woman, who had previously
demonstrated her ability as a dancer by most artistic
renditions of the violent movements of a nautch-girl,
appeared in a succession of poses with the least pos-
sible action between them. The entertainment was
naturally a failure, and the shallow critics explained
this by saying that the public was * ' unappreciative
of high art," desiring only dancing of the violent,
"vulgar" sort.

The so-called choruses of the present play are
essentially ballets, full of action, entertaining in itself,
but, it is hoped, much more highly pleasing because
of the symbolism involved. The poses, which in every
instance are cases of arrested motion, have the same
character. Since the latter are reproductions of
classic statues which are meaningless to many people
because these do not possess sufficient imagination to
conceive of the action with its underlying thought and
emotion leading up to the pose presented, the play,
it is hoped by the author, will be recognized by
teachers to possess interpretative value in the field of
art education.

Pictures of the statues referred to in the matter of
poses are all to be found in Bulfinch's "Age of
Fable," and most of them in Harper's "Classical
Dictionary, ' ' not to speak of specific works on classi-
cal art in the reference department of every well
equipped public library.

THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Persons of the Play

Principal Characters

Odysseus . . . King of Ithaca

telemachus . . . Son of Odysseus
phemius ... A blind minstrel

penelope . . . Queen of Odysseus
eurycleia . . . Nurse of Odysseus

eurynome . . . The house-mistress

Maidens of Penelope (the chorus)

ADRASTE

Leader

DAPHNE

ALCANDRE

DYMAS

ALCIPPE

EURYMEDUSA

ARETE

IANTHE

CHLORIS

PERSE

CLYTIE

PHYLO

and others, since the number of the Chorus may be
indefinitely extended.

In Pantomime

Athene, the goddess, as Iphthime, sister of
Penelope.

morpheus, as precentor of Penelope's dream.

[3]

THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

In Visions

odysseus

Companions of Odysseus

EURYLOCHUS
POLITES

THE LOTUS EATERS

Polyphemus, the Cyclops.
CIRCE, the enchantress.
hermes, herald of the gods.

Souls in Hades
teiresias, the Theban seer.
anticleia, mother of Odysseus.

THE SIRENS

calypso, the goddess of the isle Ortygia.
ino, a sea-nymph.
nausicaa, princess of Phaeacia.
alcinous, king of Phaeacia.
Athene, patron goddess of Odysseus.
argos, the old hound of Odysseus.

SAILORS, CYCLOPES, SPIRITS, MAIDENS, and
COURTIERS.

PERSONS OF THE PLAY 5

SCENE

The outer court of the Palace of Odysseus in Ithaca,
supposed to be on an elevation facing the sea. High
steps lead up to the pillared porch of the palace. Be-
tween the two central pillars are seen the open doors,
leading to the central Banquet Hall. On the right of
the porch is the entrance to the Chamber of Penelope.
On the left of the porch is the entrance to the Armory.
In the center of the court is an altar, which serves not
only for worship of the gods, but also as a support for
the actors in various statue-poses.

TIME

The evening of one day, and the morning of the next.

Argument

THE plot presented is the denouement of the
Odyssey of Homer, the return of Odysseus to
Ithaca after an absence of twenty years, the last ten
of which he has spent in wandering homeward after
the fall of Troy. He is supposed to be dead, and
Penelope, his queen, is sought in marriage by a horde
of princely suitors who fill her palace and waste her
substance. She has thus far contrived to delay the
choice of a husband forced on her, by weaving by day
a shroud for old Laertes, Odysseus' father, who is still
living, and unweaving it by night. This subterfuge
is no longer available, and her decision must be made
on the morrow. She appears on the scene, interrupt-
ing the song of Phemius, the blind minstrel, telling of
the " pitiful return of the Achaeans from Troy."
Eurycleia, the old nurse of Odysseus, enters from the
Banquet Hall, and the Maidens of Penelope from the
side doors. They perform the choruses, "The Pass-
age of the Banquet Hall," descriptive of the sottish-
ness of the suitors, and "The Weaving," descriptive
of Penelope's labors. Penelope dismisses her maidens,
and beseeches the gods to give her assurance whether
Odysseus be alive or dead. This they grant in the
form of visions of him in his wanderings, the last
visions showing him landed in the guise of a beggar
on the shore of Ithaca.

[7]

8 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

She awakens comforted and prepares for the home-
coming of her lord. Taking Eurycleia, the old nurse
of Odysseus, into her confidence, she bids her divert
the maidens with ancient stories calculated to imbue
them with patriotism, while she gets ready arms and
armor for Odysseus. Led by Eurycleia, the maidens
perform the chorus, "The Hunting of the Boar," in
which is recounted a youthful exploit of Odysseus in
which he came near to losing his life, being wounded
by an infuriated boar. Eurycleia makes the story
symbolic of the ravage of Ithaca by the suitors, and
the coming rescue by Odysseus; and Penelope, return-
ing, inspires the maidens with loyal zeal by showing
them what part women can play in crises, such as
the one approaching, by giving spiritual assistance
to the men.

As their patriotic fervor is at its height, Telemachus
enters from the Banquet Hall with Odysseus, who is
disguised in a beggar's cloak. Penelope, instructed
by the vision, recognizes him, and impulsively starts
toward him with a cry on her lips, but, being res-
trained by his look of warning, artfully applies her
actions and words to Telemachus. The prince re-
proves her, directing her to attend to the needs of the
guest, whom he represents to be a companion of
Odysseus. Odysseus refuses Penelope's attentions,
but accepts those of Eurycleia, and departs with the
old nurse to the queen's chamber.

Telemachus is brooding over some insult that has
happened in the Banquet Hall, and, to lift up his
spirit, Penelope orders her maidens to perform a
choric dance representing the foot-race of Hippo-

ARGUMENT 9

menes and Atalanta, the part of the former being
taken by Telemachus, and the part of the latter by one
of the maidens. Telemachus applies the moral of the
story, strife ending in love, as an omen of happy
conclusion of present troubles, and dismisses the
maidens. Alone with his mother he informs her of
what she has already divined, that the guest is Odys-
seus himself, as he had discovered by secretly observ-
ing the stranger's actions.

He tells her that, disclosing himself to his father,
they had entered the Banquet Hall to test the temper
of the suitors, and were despitefully used, and that
Odysseus was now resolved upon full and speedy
vengeance with the bow.

Still awaiting Odysseus' return from the queen's
chamber, Penelope summons her maidens and orders
them to perform the Archer's Chorus, imitating the
bowmen at Troy. Eurycleia enters in the midst of the
dance, and bids it cease. She discloses that the
stranger guest is Odysseus, discovered by her through
the scar made in his youth by the wild boar's tusk.
Odysseus enters clothed in armor, over which, how-
ever, he wears the beggar's cloak. The maidens greet
him, and in their name Eurycleia promises their
spiritual assistance. Under her leadership they re-
present in choric dance "The Origin of the Bow,"
which is a graphic narrative of the slaying of the
Snake, the symbol of evil, by the Arrow, the symbol of
Nemesis.

Odysseus relates the legend of Apollo slaying the
Python in this connection, ending with the story of
the establishment of the Pythian Games in commem-

10 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

oration of the deed. Telemachus and the Maidens
enact in pantomime the athletic games, taking poses
of various Greek statues. At the close they perform
a chorus, "The Vengeance of the Bow," in which the
slaying of Niobe's children by Apollo and Diana
is represented, and the various poses of the "Niobe
group' ' of sculptures are taken.

Odysseus and Telemachus approach the altar and
invoke various gods for success in their coming
battle. They then throw back the doors of the Ban-
quet Hall, and, rushing within, engage in the
Slaughter of the Suitors. Penelope, standing on the
porch, describes the action to the maidens in the
court below, who reflect it in their emotive movements
and expressions.

The play ends with Phemius emerging on the porch
and completing his opening pitiful song with a joyous
ending; Odysseus and Telemachus reappearing vic-
torious from the contest in the Banquet Hall; and the
maidens in the court below waving palm branches in
a Dance of Triumph.

Act I

The Despair of Penelope

Evening; there is a full moon.

Revelry of the suitors within the Banquet Hall.
Through the open door of the Hall Phemius comes
forward, and, standing on the porch, sings to the ac-
companiment of his harp:

SONG

The Pitiful Return of the Acileans

"And his song was of the pitiful return of the
Achaeans that Pallas Athene laid on them as they came
back from Troy."

PHEMIUS

HO for the homeward bound,
Aias! Already thine ears
Catch in the joy of the sound
Omen of welcoming cheers;

Ay, but ever thy folk

Greet thee, the godhead defied,

Hurling the lightning stroke,
Layeth thee low in thy pride.

[ii]

12 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Wo for thy coming home,
Great Agamemnon, king!

Over the flying foam

Swiftly the white sails wing,

Bearing thee on to thy goal,

The Treason within thy gates —

Love in her eyes, in her soul

Death, by the doom of the Fates !

Oh for thy sweet return,

Dear Odysseus, lord!
Heavy the hearts are that yearn,

Eyes are aweary that ward

"Now as the renowned minstrel was singing to the
wooers . . . from her upper chamber the daughter of
Icarius, wise Penelope, caught the glorious strain and
went down the high stairs from her room. . . . Then
she fell a-weeping and spake" (appearing at top of
palace steps at right, and breaking in upon the pitiful
song) :

PENELOPE

Cruel, 0 Phemius, cruel and inhuman!

0 minstrel dear, the piteous strain give o'er.
For never wo as this was laid on woman,

So mighty grows my longing evermore
For his dear head, whose fame by friend and foeman

Is noised from windy Troy to Argos' shore.

Phemius withdraws to the Banquet Hall. Penelope
descends the steps to the side of the altar and
communes with herself:

THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 13

Ten weary years, my boy my sole defender,
Have I, to balk the suitor train abhorred,

Matched with a woman's wile my spindle slender
Against the rude enforcement of the sword.

Now fails my heart, and with a foe so tender
I may not strive; I die without my lord.

Day-long there rises from my blood-stained valleys
The bellowed terror of the boding steer;

And night-long in my lust-polluted palace
The riot of the lords afflicts mine ear;

And, day and night enmeshed by their malice,
I see the fatal hour of doom draw near.

A few more days, and not a kid remaineth
To flesh the insatiate hunger of the steel;

A few more nights, and wasteful revel draineth
The wine-jar last to lose the ancient seal;

Then, ere yon orb unto a crescent waneth,
The rage of thwarted passion shall I feel.

But little then will serve this light deceiving,
The fruitless labor of the barren loom,

The weary web, the weaving and unweaving;
Yet courage, heart, Odysseus' craft assume;

Better to break a-work than waste a-grieving,
Still with Laertes' shroud delay thy doom.

Then come, my maidens, softly, softly treading,
Till safe beneath the stars ye fear no wrong;

Come bearing distaffs in your hands, and threading
The flaxen twist, the while ye steal along;

14 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

And, for the guidance of my fancy, wedding
The warp of woven steps and woof of song.

The Maidens of Penelope, bearing distaffs and
strands of flax, enter right and left, in single files,
moving to slow music. The right file is led by Eury-
nome, the left by Adraste.

CHORUS
The Passage op the Banquet Hall

eurynome

Hist!

ADRASTE

Hush, maidens all!

EURYNOME

Silence in chambers —

Eurycleia appears suddenly from the Banquet
Hall in the center in great agitation.

EURYCLEIA

U;

Over the house of Odysseus, quiet.
Heavy with wine,
Weary with riot,
Suitor and server

THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 15

Slumber like swine.

Wo for the blot on the palace's name!

At, di, the house 's shame !

MAIDENS

A'i, the shame!

EURYCLEIA

Like as a swallow,

Eaves-seeking, estrayed

The lintels within

Of shrined Apollo,

Stricken with dread,

Circles to win

Out of the hollow

Of dim, silent things

Unto the joy of the wide air's dominions;

Yet swift as her wings

Havenward hurtle,

Ay, ever she swings,

On terror-pulsed pinions

That pause not nor falter,

Backward in flight,

Her eyes quick dartle:

They see the gray altar:
The bones gleam white
Through garlands still green
And half-charred embers;
They see, and the sight
No mortal has seen,

16 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Or, seeing, remembers,

Since death is his doom —

They see by the light

Of the sun-flooded portal,

Self-shapen from gloom,

Beautiful, bright,

And towering in glory and grandeur and might,

The godhead immortal!

So I, in error

Birdlike, darting

The suitors among

Drunken in hall,

Backward in terror

A breathing space starting,

Forward flung

Swift through them all,

As senseless they slumbered like cattle in stall;

Yet brief as I lingered,

With anguish sharp

The shame and the wrong

Were graven deep

Into my soul:

There Phemius fingered,

Nerveless, his harp

As though in mid-song

O'ertaken by sleep;

Cheek to board, lip to bowl,

His locks deep stained

In the pooled gore

Of dark lees of wine,

Eurymachus lay like a victim supine.

THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 17

Then, ere I had gained

The farther door,

Lordly, divine,

Imperious, tall,

Antinoiis rose in the midst of the hall

From his seat on the throne;

And forth from his face

Clear cut as in stone,

His eyes' soft langour,

His lips' curling grace,

The deity shone,

For the finger of Fate sets its seal on its own;

And nameless anger,

And hope without name

Smote through my soul and thrilled through my

frame,
Ai, ai, the house's shame!

MAIDENS

Ai, the shame.

Penelope, wringing her hands, walks away from the
maidens to the side of the court.

EURYNOME

Cease for our queen's sake, Eurycleia dear,
Thy raven croakings of the house's shame!

For these ring ever in her troubled ear
And wake vain sorrow. Equally I blame

Thy cuckoo calls of spring in winter drear;
Why weave within the meshes of her brain
Strands of a baseless hope to be unwrought again ?

18 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Our task is fairer, maidens, for we feign
In endless windings, endless trickery

Whereby our lady's craft and cunning gain
Respite from wrong, comforl in constancy,

And solace for the ever gnawing pain,
The smoldering llame thai in her bosom burns
Which will not die until our lord returns.

CHORUS
The Weaving

STROPHE

(Eurynome and half of the maidens)

Weaving a-weaving,
What arc ye weaving
Maidens all?

ANTISTROPHE

(Adraste and the other maiden*)

Weaving a-weaving,

A shroud arc we weaving.

Shroud and a pall.

STROPHE

Weaving a-weaving,

Strange sliroud arc ye weaving

And lordly attire

In cloth of gold.

THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 1!)

ANTINTKorill.;

Yea, we are are weaving
A shroud for the living,
Odysseus' sire,
The gardener old.

STROPHE

Weaving a-weaving,
Why needeth the living
( l-arment so grim?

ANTISTROPHB

Weaving a-weaving,

For youth is he grieving;
His senses grow dim.

STROPHE

But fair is the mourning
And rich the adorning

To grieve for the past.

ANTISTROPHE

Ay, but to hoping

Through blindness and groping,

Day dawns at last.

STRUT! IK

No more he diseerneth
The blooms that unfold,

20 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

And ever he yearneth
For smell of the mold ;
No more for him breaketh
The sun-bright morn,
No more he awaketh
To scent of the thorn;
What means this derision
To age-clouded eyes —
How shall to his vision
Promise arise?

ANTI STROPHE

His eyes toward the even
Age ever turns
Where fair in the heaven
Hesperus burns:
Hesper the herald
Who brings to their rest
Sheep to the sheep-fold,
Babe to the breast;*
Who gives to the sightless
Faith stronger than sight,
Light to the lightless,
Hope in the night;
For Hesper will gather
What Eos hath strown :
The son to the father,
The prince to his own!

►These four lines are a translation of a fragment of Sappho.

THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 21

EPODE

(All)

So we are weaving,

Weaving, a-weaving!

In mystical blending

An endless deceiving,

An endless believing,

A garment of guile and of hope never ending,

Weaving, a-weaving,

SONG

The Dead Gardener

chloris

Oh what shall we wreathe for a border fair

In the good old gardener's shroud:
The blooms that blazon their beauty rare,
Or the shy little blossoms that hardly dare

To lift up their heads in a crowd?

For the stately lily and queenly rose

He watered and trellised well,
Yet he loved the tiniest flower that grows,
And only the heel-trodden daisy knows

Where the dew of his tear-drop fell!

EPODE

(All)

Wreathing, a-wreathing,
In fairest designing,

22 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Ivy and helichryse wreathing and twining,
Shape we the border
In rhythmic order,

The golden bloom and the green leaves combin-
ing;
And, to and fro
As we come and go,
Here and there a flower we strow,
The swarthy blossom of lettered wo,
A'i, di, crying
For Hyacinthus dying
When it was stained with the purple flow
That ebbed in gentle breathing
Forth from his body rare.
So let us form our wreathing,
Our wreathing, our wreathing,
Of somber blooms and fair!

During the Epode the Maidens lay aside their
distaffs, and, taking ivy sprays and flowers from their
bosoms, scatter these about the court and on the altar.

PENELOPE

Give o'er the dance Eurynome, give o'er
The joyful dance my maidens all, for I,

Wearied with mighty yearning evermore,
And fain, for lack of my dear lord, to die,

Love not its meshed measures as of yore.

Give o'er the dance, my maidens dear, the joyful
dance give o'er.

THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 23

Lay by the distaffs, maidens all, lay by

The garlands gay and twists of yellow twine,

And cease the song of happy revelry,
For very heavy is this heart of mine,

And all its music tuned to a sigh.

Lay by the distaffs, maidens all, the flaxen twine
lay by.

While Penelope is speaking, the maidens, taking up
their distaffs, retire, right and left, by pairs.

Come, maidens, tread the solemn dance divine,

In joyless measures suited to my wo.
Let trailing wreaths of sacrifice be thine,

Swayed in soft cadence, sorrowful and slow,
And hung devoted on Athene's shrine.
Come, tread the dance, my maidens all, the solemn
dance divine.

The maidens re-enter with long green sprays.

Bow, maidens, at Athene's shrine, bow low;

Before the mighty godhead bend the knee,
And pray her in Odysseus' name to show

A token of her graciousness to me,
;That truly of my lord's dear life I know.
Bow low before Athene's shrine, my maidens all, bow
low.

PANTOMINE

The Invocation

At the close the maidens retire, two by two, right
and left, leaving Penelope alone.

24 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

PENELOPE

Peace-bearing night, whose truce I trouble nightly,
Bring rest from longing with the homing dove.

O Wind of Night, that landward lifteth lightly
The flapping sail, O beacon star above

The low-hung mists of even burning brightly,
Draw homeward to my heart the man I love!

0 Moon, that viewest in thy three-fold vision
All things (hat in the heavens high are done,

On the broad earth, in darkling fields Elysian,
To whom (he secrets of the searching sun

And subtle sea are bared, aid my decision;
Bring me true tidings of my faithful one!

O Earth, and thou, Earth Mother, dear Demeter,
Who for thy daughter troubled gods and men

Till Dis resigned, for her dark hiding sweeter,
His stolen flowTer — oh, by that rapture when

Thou with glad day and greening earth did greet her,
Give o'er my dear one to these arms again!

Kneeling before the altar.

Athene, child of Zeus, his aegis o'er thee,
Girt with his wisdom, maiden weariless,

If ever thine Odysseus burnt before thee

His choicest kine, look on his queen's distress.

Unto her weary eyes grant, I implore thee,
A vision of his loving faithfulness!

Sinks in slumber on steps at right of altar.

Interlude

The Visions of Penelope

Darkness. Morpheus enters on the left in ghostly
attire. lie speaks :

VTOW the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, made a
phantom, and fashioned it after the likeness of a
woman, Iphthime, daughter of great-hearted Icarius,
and she sent it to the house of divine Odysseus to
bid Penelope amid her sorrow to cease from her weep-
ing and lamentation. So the phantom. . . . stood
above her head and spake unto her, saying:

Enter Iphthime. Pantomime between Iphthime and
Penelope, as Morpheus continues :

"Sleepest thou, Penelope, stricken at heart? Take
courage and be not so sorely afraid. For lo! such a
friend as all men pray to stand by them, for that she
hath the power, Pallas Athene pitieth thee in thy
sorrow, and hath sent me forth to speak to thee."

Then wise Penelope made her answer as she si um-
bered very softly at the gate of dreams:

' ' If thou art indeed a god, and hast heard the word
of a god, come, I pray thee, and tell me tidings con-
cerning that ill-fated man, whether perchance he is
yet alive and sees the light of sun, or hath already
died, and is a dweller in the house of Hades."

[25]

26 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Ami the « 1 1 1 1 1 phantom answered her and Baid:
''Concerning him 1 will not tell thee all the tale, but
thine own eyea Bhall behold many «>r the perils he hath
passed^ striving to win ins own life and the return of
ins company, and thine own ears shall hear him re
count ins adventures.

lpJithimc OQStS iiict'nst- mi llw idhir, mid tu tht
s»u>L<- ap/ifttr tltt'sc risions, irhicli <r/v drscriht'd nt
tilt- worth of Ody880U8 by Mtn-pht'iis :

THE LOTUS EATERS

For nine whole days was 1 borne Prom Troy by nun
on. winds over the teeming deep; i>ui on the tenth day

we set Pool fa the land of the loins enters, who eat a
flowery food. So we stepped ashore, ;md si rais.'ht way

my company look their midday meal by the swift
ships. And to ns came the kindly people o\' the land,
bearing the Pruil <>\' the loins, which they offered as
to eat. Fearing the strange \\hh\, Eurylochus, my
captain, and 1 alone forbore to partake of it. And
when the meal was ended, and I called upon the
company to return io the ship and Pare forward to
Hellas, oni\ Eurylochus arose with me, Por whosoever

doth ea1 i^' the honey sweet fruit <>f the lotus hath
no other wish than to ahtde in that land with its kindly

ft. Ik, ever feeding ow the lotus and forgetting the home
ward way. Therefore Eurylochus and l were eon

shamed lo pull them to their feet ami to hale them
baofe to the ship with buffeting, for they went weep
ins; and sore as.ainst their will.

THE VISIONS Ol*1 I'UNELOPE 27

THE OTOLOPS

Thence we sailed onward to the Land of the
Cyclopes. a froward and a lawless folk. Bidding
Eurylochus to remain on the ship with half the
company, I waded ashore with the rest of* the com-
rades, carrying with us two skins of* the wine of [lios
as a drink' offering. Wandering along the strand we
came upon a greal cave opening on the sea, with a
sheepfold, walled by huge stones, before it. Entering

the Cavern we found therein baskets laden with
cheeses, and kids and lambkins in pens waiting the
return of their dams from the pastures. My
company besought me to lake the cheeses and yean-
lings and to sail away over the salt sea water.

llowheit I hearkened not (and Car better would it
have been), but wailed to see the owner himself, and

whether he wonld give me gifts as a stranger's due.

A fire smoldered in the cave, and we mended it into a

blaze, and made :i burnt offering of a kid, where-
of we did eat, and of the eheeses also. At dusk the

bleating Hock told us of the return of the shepherd,

and anon he filled flu; cave's mouth with his vast
bulk, Cor he was a monstrous thing, and fashioned
marvellously, since he had but a single eye, and that
was placed in his forehead's center, beneath one

shaggy eyebrow that spanned his brow from ear to
ear. He bare a grievous weight of dry wood against
supper time, which he c;ist with a great din inside the
cave. Amid (he clutter we fled in great fear to the
dark recesses of (he cavern, but to none avail, for,
after leading his flocks into tin? cave for the milking,

28 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

and closing the entrance with a vast doorstone, he
replenished the fire, and by its light beheld us cower-
ing.

" Strangers, who are ye?" he called. '.'On some
trading enterprise, or at adventure do ye rove, even
as sea-robbers over the brine? — for at hazard of their
own lives thej^ wander, bringing bale to alien men."

So spake he, but as for us our hearts were broken
for terror of the deep voice and monstrous shape ; yet
despite all I answered: "Lo, we are Achaeans,
driven out of our course by evil winds on our return
from Troy, that great city which our mighty chief
Agamemnon hath sacked, destroying many people.
Blown hither by chance, we have come as suppliants
to thee, the lord of the island, so that, mayhap, thou
wilt give us the stranger's due. Have regard to the
gods, I pray thee, for Zeus is the avenger of sup-
pliants and sojourners."

So I spake beseechingly, but he answered grimly
out of his pitiless heart : ' ' Thou art witless, stranger,
or thou hast come from afar, who biddest me to fear
the gods, for verily the Cyclopes are better men than
they. Nor would I, to shun the enmity of Zeus, spare
thee or thy company unless my spirit bade me. But
tell me, where didst thou stay thy well-wrought ship
on thy coming? Was it at the far end of the island,
or hard by?"

And I, to save the company not yet in his clutches,
answered with words of guile: "As for my ship,
Poseidon, lord of the sea, brake it in pieces on the
headland hard by, and it sank utterly, we being able
to win the shore only with our dripping garments

THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 29

and two skins of most precious wine, our share in the
sack of the palace of Priam, king of Troy. This we
beg you to accept as the due from strangers to the
lord of the land."

But, either mindless of the gift (or, indeed, wotting
not what wine might be), and no longer withheld by
fear of vengeance at the hand of our comrades, he
answered me not a word out of his pitiless heart, but
sprang up and, laying his hands upon two of us,
lifted them on high and dashed them, as they had been
whelps, to the earth, so that their brains flowed forth
on the ground. Then he made ready his supper. . . .

We wept and raised our hands to Zeus, beholding
the cruel deeds, and were at our wits' end.

But, after the Cyclops had filled his huge maw with
human flesh, I took counsel in my heart, and went
f orward bearing a skin of wine, and said : ' ' Cyclops,
take wine after thy feast of man's meat, that thou
mayest know what manner of drink this is that we
brought thee as an offering, if haply thou mightest
take pity on us and send us on our way home. ' '

So he grasped the skin, and drank therefrom,
slowly at first, but with growing delight at the sweet
wine, so that he gulped it down in great draughts
till not a drop remained. Then he asked for the second
skin, saying: "Give it me again of thy grace, that
I may grant thee a stranger's gift. The juice of the
grape I know, for often do I eat the ripe clusters,
but this is the gods' own nectar."

So I bare to him the second wine-skin, and he
drained it also, and anon sank to the ground with
nerveless limbs.

30 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Seeing that the wine had got about the wits of the
Cyclops, I spake to him with soft words: " Cyclops,
thou askedst my renowned name, and I will declare it
unto thee, and do thou grant me a stranger's gift as
ithou hast promised. 'Neman' is my name — so all
my fellows call me."

Straightway he answered me out of his pitiless
heart : " ' Noman ' will I eat last of his fellows : that
shall be thy gift."

Therewith he sank backwards and fell with face
upturned, and sleep, that conquers all men, overcame
him. Then I summoned my comrades, and we took the
giant's club, and, hacking with our swords, shaped it
to a point, which we put in the fire till it glowed
terribly. Then my comrades seized the mighty club
and, lifting it on end, thrust the burning point into
the eye of the Cyclops, while I stood astride of his
head and turned the club around as a ship's carpen-
ter bores a beam with a drill.

And the Cyclops raised a great and terrible cry,
and we fled back in fear while he plucked forth from
his eye the hissing bloody brand, and cast it from
him. Then he called with loud voice on his fellow
Cyclopes, who dwelt about him in the sea-caves.
Gathering round the cave door they asked what ailed
him that he disturbed their slumbers.

"What hath so distressed thee, Polyphemus? Thy
flocks are safe, and surely no man slayeth thee by
force or craft. ' '

And strong Polyphemus spake to them again from
out the cave: "My friends, Noman is slaying me by
guile, nor at all by craft."

THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 31

Then they laughed him to scorn as a witless man,
and returned to their beds, and ray heart within me
laughed also to see how my cunning had beguiled
them.

But Polyphemus, groaning in pain, groped with
his hands, and lifted away the stone from the door of
the cave, and sat in the entry with arms outstretched
to catch us if we went forth with the flock — so wit-
less, methinks, did he hope to find me.

But I counseled my fellows to bind together the
rams of the flock by threes, and bade each man cling
to the middle one of the three, so that they should
safely pass by the Cyclops. And thus we returned to
the ship with many fat and goodly fleeced sheep.

CIRCE

Thence we sailed onward glad as men saved from
death, albeit we had lost dear companions. And we
came to the isle Aeaean, where dwelt Circe of the
braided tresses, an awful goddess of mortal speech,
who was a sorceress. Dividing my company into two
bands, we chose by lot which should go to entreat the
ruler of the land for the stranger's due, and which
should stay by the ship. To Eurylochus it fell to lead
his men to the palace. In the forest glades they found
the halls of Circe builded of polished stone. And all
around the palace wolves and lions were roaming, yet
they did not set on my men, but lo, they ramped about
them and fawned on them, wagging their long tails,
for they were men who had been bewitched with un-
canny drugs. But my companions were affrighted

32 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

when fchey saw the strange and terrible creatures. So
they stood at the outer gate until they heard
Circe singing within in a sweet voice as she fared to
and fro before a great web, imperishable, full of grace
and splendour. Wiled by her song, Polites called to
her, and straightway she came forth and opened the
shining doors and bade them in. Only Eurylochus
tarried behind watching at the gate, for he guessed
that I here was some treason. So Circe set Polites and
the rest on high seats, and made them a mess of cheese
and barley meal, and gave them in a great cup yellow
honey and Pramnian wine, wherewith she secretly
mixed harmful drugs. Now when they had all drunk
o\' the cup, Circe smote them with a wand, and they
were changed in form to swine, though their minds
abode even as of old. So they wept when she penned
them in styes and flung to them bitter acorns, and
mast, and fruit of the cornel tree whereon swine do
batten.

Now Eurylochus came back to the black ship a-wreep-
ing with tidings of his fellows, and of their unseemly
doom. And 1 cast about my shoulders my silver-
studded sword, a great blade of bronze, and slung my
bow about me, and bade him lead me again by the way
he came. But, catching me with both hands and by
my knees, he besought me not to go to my doom.
"For well I know thou shalt thyself return no more,
nor bring anyone of all our fellowship; nay, let us
flee the swifter with those that be here, for even yet
we may escape the evil day. "

But I answered him saying: "Eurylochus, abide
for thy part by the black hollow ship; but I will go

THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 33

forth, for a strong constraint is upon mo."

Willi that I went up from the Bea-shore. But lo,
in my Paring through the Baored glades, Eermes, of
the winged wand, met me, in the likeness <>r a young
man with the first down <>n his lip, the time when
youth is most gracious. So he clasped my hand, and
hailed me: "Ah, hapless man, whither away all alone
through the wolds, thou that knowest not this evil
country? Thy company yonder is penned in the halls

Of Circe, in I lie guise of swine in filthy si raw abid-
ing. Is il. in hope lo Tree I hem I hat I lion eomest .? Nay,

methinks thou shall, never return, but remain with the
others. Come, (hen, I will bring deliverance. Lo,
hike this herb of virtue — moly, the ^ro<ls call it, lor it
is unknown to mortal eyes, growing in secret places.

If, will save thee from I he enchantment of Circe. "

Then Hermes departed to Olympus, and I came with
high heart lo the house ol' the enchantress. J called
aloud at the portals, and she presently came forth

and Wade me enter. So she Led me in, and set me on

a goodly Carven chair, with studs of silver. And she

made me a potion in a. golden cup that I might drink,

and she also put a charm therein in I he evil counsel
of her heart. Now when she had given if me, and I
had drunk if Off, she smote me with her wand and
commanded me: "do thy way now to I he stye, couch
thee there with the rest of thy company. M

So spake she, hut I drew my sharp sword from my
thigh and sprang upon Circe as one eager to slay her.

But with a great cry she slipped under, and clasped
my knees, and bewailing herself spake lo me wing6d
words :

34 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

' ' Who art thou of the sons of men ? I marvel to see
how thou nasi drunk of this charm and wast nowise
subdued. Thou hast, methinks, a mind within thee
that may not be enchanted. Verily thou art Odysseus,
ready at need, whom he of the winded wand full oft
hath told me was to come hither on his way from
Troy in his swift black ship. Nay, come, put up thy
sword and let us meet in love and trust."

So spake she, but 1 answered her, saying: "Nay,
Circe, how canst thou bid me be gentle to thee, who
hast turned my company into swine, and wouldsl have
done so even to me? I will not let thee go, goddess,
until thou hast sworn a mighty oath that thou wilt free
my company, and plan nought else of mischief to
our hurt."

So Circe swore by the awful Styx, the oath binding
on the immortals, that she would do all even as I
willed, and with wand in hand she passed with me
through the hall, and opened the doors of the stye, and
drove my companions forth in (he shape of swine.
And she passed among them anointing them witli
another charm. Then, waving her wand above them,
she commanded that they resume their former state.
And lo, from the limbs the bristles dropped away, and
they became men again, younger than before they
were, and goodlier to behold. And they all knew me
again, and each one took my hands, and wistful was
their lament, so that even the cruel goddess was moved
with compassion.

So she entreated me and my companions kindly;
yea, she even imparted to me a secret known only to
the gods, that if I would come safely home I must

THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 35

first pass through the dark halls of Hades and learn
there from the shade of Teiresias, the blind sooth-
sayer, the way and measure of my path over the teem-
ing deep.

ODYSSEUS IN HADES

So our black ship came to the limits of the world, to
the deep-flowing Oceanus, which washes the land of
the Cimmerians, where never shines the sun, but al-
ways deadly night is outspread over miserable mortals.
There I found, as Circe had told me, the grim entrance
to Hades. And when I had made supplication and
poured a libation to the lordly races of the dead, and
offered to Dis, the lord of Hades, a ram and a black
ewe, the departed spirits gathered from out Erebus
around the blood of the sacrifice. Brides and youths
unwed, and old men of many and evil days there were,
and men slain in battle with their bloody mail about
them. And these many ghosts flocked about the
trench with a wondrous cry, and pale fear gat hold on
me. So I drew the sharp sword from my thigh, and
sat there, suffering not the strengthless heads to draw
nigh to the blood ere I had word of Teiresias. Anon
came the soul of Theban Teiresias with a golden
sceptre in his hand, and I suffered him to drink of the
dark blood, after which he foretold the sufferings I
was yet to endure. "Late shalt thou return in evil
plight, with the loss of all thy company, on board the
ship of strangers, and thou shalt find sorrows in thy
house, even proud men that devour thy living, while
they woo thy godlike wife. And even when thou hast
slain the wooers in thy halls thou shalt not rest, but

36 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

must travel afar with an oar on thy shoulder till thou
come to a country where men shall call it a winnow-
ing fan, because they know naught of the sea. There
fasten the oar into the earth, and sacrifice to thine
enemy, Poseidon, lord of the sea, and he shall at last
be pacified. And from the sea shall thine own death
come, the gentlest death that may be, which shall end
thee foredone with smooth old age, and thy folk shall
dwell happily around thee."

Then the soul of my mother dead, Anticleia, whom I
left alive when I departed for sacred Troy, drew
nigh and drank the dark blood, whereupon she knew
me, and bewailing herself spake to me winged words :
"Dear child, how didst thou once come beneath the
darkness, thou that art a living man? Art thou come
hither in thy long wanderings from Troy, or hast thou
reached Ithaca, and seen thy wife in thy halls?"

And I answered her and said : ' ' Not yet have I set
foot on mine own country, but have been wandering
evermore in affliction from the day that I went with
goodly Agamemnon to Troy. But come, declare me:
What doom overcame thee with death ? Was it a slow
disease or did Artemis slay thee with her sudden
shafts? And tell me of my father and son; doth my
honour yet abide with them, or hath another already
taken it, while they say that I shall come home no
more? And tell me of my wedded wife, doth she abide
with her son and keep all secure, or hath she already
wedded the best of the Achaeans?"

And my lady mother answered-: "Yea, verily, she
abideth with steadfast spirit in thy halls, and wearily
for her the nights wane always, and the days, in shed-

THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 37

ding of tears. And the fair honour that is thine no
man hath taken; and Telemachus sits at peace on his
demesne. But thy father abides in the field, sorrow-
ing and nursing his mighty grief, for long desire of
thy return, and old age withal comes heavy upon him.
Yea, and even so did I perish. It was not the archer
goddess who slew me, nor did any sickness come upon
me; it was my sore longing for thee that reft me of
life."

So spake she, and I would fain have embraced my
mother dead. Thrice I sprang towards her, and was
minded to embrace her; thrice she flitted from my
hands as a shadow, or even as a dream, and grief
waxed ever the sharper at my heart.

THE SIRENS

Then our good ship came to the island of the
Sirens twain. And I stopped with wax the ears of all
my men that they should not hear the beguiling song
of these awful goddesses. But because I would listen
to the sweet song that none other mortal had heard and
not followed to his doom, I bade my company bind
me, hand and foot, upright to the mast-head. And
when they had done this, they sat down on the benches
and smote the grey sea-water with their long oars.
Then, when the ship was within the sound of a man's
shout from the land, we fleeing lightly on our way,
the Sirens espied the swift ship, and raised their clear-
toned song:

"Hither, come hither, renowned Odysseus, great
glory of the Achaeans, here stay thy barque, that thou

38 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

mayest listen to the voice of us twain. For none hath
ever driven by this way in his black ship till he hath
heard from our lips the voice sweet as the honey-
comb, and hath had joy thereof and gone on his way
the wiser. For lo, we know all things, all the travail
that in wide Troy-land the Argives and Trojans bare
by the gods' design, yea, and we know all that shall
hereafter be on the fruitful earth."

So spake they uttering a sweet voice, and my heart
was fain to listen, and I bade my company unbind me,
nodding at them with a frown, but they bent to their
oars and rowed on.

SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS

We soon came to the fair islands where fed the
goodly kine, broad of brow, of Helios Hyperion. And
against my will, for Teiresias had warned me of the
evils that should befall the deed, my men, being a
hungered, slaughtered the sacred kine of the Sun-God.
And he, who overseeth and overheareth all things,
when we embarked sent a shrilling storm from the
West, which snapped our mast and swept all our gear
away. And the mast in falling all-to brake the skull
of our pilot. Then Zeus thundered, and struck the
ship with his bolt, so that it was filled with choking
sulphur, whereat my company leaped into the sea.
Like sea-gulls they were borne round the black ship
upon the billows, and the god reft them of returning.

So I was left alone on the ship, since I only had
taken no part in the slaughter of the sacred kine.
And the tempest ceased, yet I joyed not thereat ; since
in its stead a fair south wind sprang up which bore

THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 39

me on toward the dread cliff of Scylla and the whirl-
ing pool of Charybdis, feared of all mariners. Lean-
ing mightily on the helm, I 'scaped the ragged rock,
but only to find my ship sucked down into the circl-
ing surge. But, ere it sank, I leaped on high and
grasped a fig-tree growing on the cliff, whereto I
clung like a bat until the broken hull was vomited
forth again. And then I let myself drop down hands
and feet, and plunged heavily in the midst of the
shattered wreck. Grasping the keel timber, I climbed
upon it, and rowed hard with my hands until I came
safely out of the swirl of waters into the calm sea.

CALYPSO

Thence for nine days was I borne, and on the tenth
night the gods brought me nigh to the isle of Or-
tygia, where dwells Calypso of the braided tresses,
an awful goddess of mortal speech, who took me in
and entreated me kindly.

There dwelt I many days consuming my heart in
longing for my home and native land, despite the lov-
ing regard of the goddess who would have kept me
forever as her consort, for she had the power to confer
immortality on whom she would. And when at last
she saw that my misery came not to on end, but grew
ever greater until I was like to perish of grief, to me
she came, as I sat on the strand gazing toward Ithaca
over the wide sea, and spake winged words : "Lovest
thou so thy Penelope? Truly indeed must she be
worthy of thee, and I a goddess would be not a whit
less great of soul than a mortal woman. Behold, I

40 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

grant thee <liy wish to get thee home l<> thine own dear
country even in this hour.*'

So she gave me a great axe of bronze, double-edged,
and she Led me where tall trees grew, alder and poplar,
and Hi*' pine that reaohetb to heaven. And when
I had tolled a score of the lordly lives, she gave me a
polished adze, and augers, and I built me ;i raft with
a mast, for which Calypso wove and shaped a sail.
And the goddess placed on hoard a skin of dark wine

and a skin of dear wafer, and corn, loo, in a wallet.

And, instructing me hi the guidance of the stars, she

helped me with her divine hands to launch the great
rail, and made a warm and gentle wind to Mow, which
bOTC me forward on my way.

1NO

Now when 1 had come nigh the goodly land ^\' the

PhaeacianS, mine enemy divine, Poseidon, lord of the
sea, saw me, as he returned from sojourning among

the blameless Ethiopians, ami was wroth at whatso-
ever god had opposed his Cell purpose toward me.
Grasping his trident, be roused all Storms Of nil man

ner of winds, and he shrouded in clouds I he land and
sea. And a great wave smote upon my raft, so that
I Lost the helm from my hand and was swept henealh
the dark walers. Nor could 1 rise speedily from be-
neath the rush of the mighty wave, for the garments

hung heavy which Calypso had given me. But at last
1 came up, Bpueing forth the bitter salt water, and
Bprang forward in the dark wave after the raft, ami
Clutched it, and sal in the midst (hereof, avoiding the
issues of death. And the great wave swept the raft

TIIU VISIONS OV I'UNELOPE II

hither and thither along the si, renin, lor the storm
had reft it of helm and mast and sail.

But the daughter <>r Cadmus marked me, [no, of
the Pair ankles, who, though in time past a in;ii<l<'M of
mortal speech, <li<l now in the depths of the salt sea
get proper share in worship of the gods. Taking pity
on me m my travail, she rose, like a sea gull on the
wing, Prom i ho depth of the mere, and siii, upon the
well hound raft, : i n < I Bpake, Baying: "Hapless one,
wherefore is Poseidon, shaker of the earth, so wroth
wil.h Mice? Yd, shall ho noi, make a Bull end of thee

Tor all his desire. Do even ;is I tell I lice. ( !;isl, oil"
these garments, and leave Hie raft to drift before Un-
winds, but do thou swim with thine hands .'md win a
rooting on the coast of the Phaeaoians, whither it is
decreed thou shall, escape. Mere, take this veil im-
mortal and wind ii, about thy breast; so is there uo
fear that thou perish. But when thou hast laid hold
of the mainland with thy hands, Loose the veil Prom off
thee, and oast it into the wine dark deep Par Prom the
land, and thyself turn away."

Willi that the goddess gave the veil, mid dived haelc

into (ho heaving deep, like a sea-gull; and the dark

wave closed over her. And I, too, easling off my gar

ments and winding the veil about me, plunged into

the sea.

NAIINI(!AA

A great wave bore me to the rugged shore, ndown

whose rooks a brook Pell roaming into the sea. And

all my hones would have been broken had not Athene

put a thoughl into my heart. I sprang forward of

42 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

,the wave with all my strength, and grasped a rock, and
clung thereto with hands and knees, till the surge beat
a gainst my back, sorely crushing me, but not loosing
my grasp. And, ere it returned, I clambered upon
the rock and crawled to the green shore beyond.

And when my breath returned, I loosed from my
bruised limbs the sodden veil of the sea-goddess, and
hurled it with all the strength left in me far out upon
the billow. And I turned ere it alighted, and fell
upon the earth, and kissed it, the grain-giver, and gave
thanks to the kindly goddess who had braved the
wrath of her overlord and saved me from the sea.

Then, because I was naked, I dragged my weary
limbs into a thick coppice near a pool in the brook,
and I fell into slumber, long and deep.

Now Nausicaa, princess of that land, came with
her maidens to (he pool to wasli the soiled linen of the
palace. And, when they had cleansed all the stains,
they spread the cloths on the green bank to dry, and
fell to playing at ball in the fair meadow beyond.
And the goddess Athene put it in the heart of the
princess to throw the ball at one of her company, so
that it fell into the pool where the current was pour-
ing over the rocks into the sea. And all the maidens
raised a piercing cry to see the end of their pleasure,
so that I awoke. Glad was I to hear the sound of
human voices, and, breaking a leafy bough from the
thick wood, and holding it athwart my body to hide
my nakedness, I stepped from the coppice fain to
draw nigh to the fair-tressed maidens. But I was
terrible in their eyes, being marred with the salt sea,
and they fled cowering. And the daughter of

TPIE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 43

Aleinoiis alone stood firm, for Athene gave her courage
of heart and took away all trembling from her limbs.
So she halted and stood over against me.

And I thought within myself that it were better to
stand apart and beseech her with smooth words lest
the maiden should be angered with me if I touched her
knees in supplication. So I spake a sweet and cun-
ning word : ' ' I supplicate thee, 0 queen, whether thou
art a goddess or a mortal! If thou art indeed of them
that keep the wide heaven, to Artemis would I liken
thee for beauty and stature and shapeliness; but if
thou art of the daughters of earth, thrice blessed are
thy father and lady mother and thy brethern. Sure-
ly their souls glow with gladness each time they see
thee entering the dance, so fair a flower of maidens!
But he is of heart blessed beyond all others who shall
prevail with gifts of wooing, and lead thee to his home.
Yesterday I escaped after many perils from the wine-
dark deep to this shore, where I know no man. Naked,
and wounded sore by the waves, I beseech thee to give
me a wrap from thy store of linen, and show me the
way to the town where I may obtain succour. And
may the gods grant thee all thy heart's desire: a
noble husband and a home, and a mind at one with his
— a good gift, for there is nothing nobler than when
man and wife are of one mind in a house, a great joy
to their friends, though their own hearts know it
best."

Then Nausicaa of the white arms answered me, and
said: "Stranger, forasmuch as thou seemest no evil
man nor foolish — and it is Zeus that giveth or with-
holdeth weal as he will — now that thou hast come to

44 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

our land, thou shalt not lack raiment, or aught else
that is the due of a hapless suppliant. And I will
show thee the town, and name the name of the people :
the Phaeacians hold this city and land, and I am the
daughter of Alcinoiis, great of heart, on whom all the
might and welfare of the Phaeacians depend. ' '

Then she called to her maidens, and bade them fetch
me raiment and olive-oil for the anointing of my
bruises. And when they had brought them, I bade
the maidens to stand apart, while I bathed in the pool
and anointed my body with the oil, and put on the gar-
ment. And Athene made me great and mighty to be-
hold, causing from my head deep curling locks to flow
like the hyacinth flower, so that, when I stepped forth
among the maidens, the princess marvelled at me, and
said to her maidens : ' ' Would that such an one might
be called my husband, and that it might please him
here to abide! But come, give the stranger meat and
drink. ' '

And when I was refreshed, the princess brought me
to the goodly house of her father, where I abode many
days honoured as I had been a god who came in the
guise of a stranger guest.

Day after day we spent in hunting the wild beasts
and in many games, but ever did I turn my head to
the splendour of the sun, being fain to hasten its set-
ting. And when my longing to return to my native
land became too strong to be overcome, Alcinoiis gave
me lordly gifts, and sent me on my way to Ithaca in
a tall ship with many rowers.

And Nausicaa, dowered with beauty by the gods,
bade me farewell, saying sadly : ' ' When thou comest

THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 45

into thine own country, noble Odysseus, bethink thee
at times, I pray thee, of the maid who met thee kindly
when thou earnest in thy need to the Phaeacian shore. ' '
And I answered her from the fullness of my heart :
"Nausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinoiis, if
Zeus grant me to reach my home, there shall I worship
thee as a goddess all my days forevermore, for thou
has given me my life. ' '

THE LANDING OF ODYSSEUS AT ITHACA

There is in the land of Ithaca a certain haven of
Phorcys. Now at the harbour's head is a long-leaved
olive tree, and hard by is a pleasant cave and shadowy,
sacred to the nymphs that are called the Naiads.
Thither did the Phaeacian seamen let drive their ship ;
and now the vessel in full course ran ashore, half her
keel's length high. Howbeit, I was asleep. So they
alighted from the benched ship upon the land, and
first they lifted me from out the hollow ship, all as I
was in a sheet of linen and the bright rug, and laid
me yet heavy with slumber on the sand. And then
they brought forth the goods which great-hearted
Alcinoiis had given me on my homeward way, and
set them in hiding within an olive copse a little aside
from the strand lest some wayfaring man, before I
awakened, should come and spoil them. Then the sea-
men departed to fair Phaeacia with gently moving
oars.

THE TRANSFORMATION OF ODYSSEUS

Then Athene came nigh me in the guise of a herds-
man, a young man most delicate, such as are the

46 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

sons of kings. And she bad a well-wrought mantle
that Eel] In two folds about her shoulders, and a jav-
elin in her hand.

And she did (oiieh me sleeping with her spear, so
thai 1 started up. And 1 sp:ike to the stranger winded
words, vet did not utter (lie truth, hut wrested my
Words Into guile. Well 1 WOt that I was in Ithaca, for

looking about I saw the eave and harbour, dear to my

boyhood. So I dissembled and said: " Friend, since
fchou art the lirsl I have chanced on in this land,
hail to thee! Tell me truly what land is this, what

men dwell therein?"

And the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered:
"Thou art witless, stranger, or thou art come from
afar, it" indeed thou askesf of this land; since the
deeds of its prince Odysseus have made it lamed

even unto the Ear land of Troy."

And I was glad at the words of the herdsman, yet
still dissembled. "Of Ithaca have I heard tell, even
in broad Crete, whence J have been outlawed for slay-
ing (though it was by sad mishap) the dear son of
[domeneus, king of that country. 1 lied to a Phoeni-
cian ship in the harbour about to sail for Carthage.
Driven by a storm we landed on these strange shores,
where we rested our worn bodies with sweet sleep.
Fearing, perchance, that 1 was bringing on them the
anger of the gods, they have stolen away while I
remained in slumber, Look! then1 is their ship in
th«> oiling!"

So 1 spake, and the goddess, grey-eyed Athene,
smiled, and caressed me with her hand; and straight-
way she changed to the semblance o\' a woman, fair

THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 17

and tall. And uttering her voice she Bpake to me
winged words:

"Crafty must be be who would outdo thee in all
manner of guile, even if it were a pod encountered
thee! So thou wast not even in thine own country to
cease from thy sleights and knavish words, which thou
lovest from the bottom <>i" thy heart! Yd, thou knew-
est not me, Pallas A.thene, who am always by thee and
guard thee in :ill thy adventures. And now I am conic
hither to contrive a plot, with thee. For thou hast
still to endure much sorrow, submitting thee to the

despite of men. In thine absence many powerful

lords sue for Hie hand of thy wil'e, saying Mini, thou

Jirt de;id. But she remains true to thee, and awaits

thy coming, deceiving Hie wooers with a guile worthy

of thee her lmsl>;ind. Come, let rne disguise thee, Hint
none shall know I hee while I lion wailesf in the lint of

(faithful Eumaeus, the swineherd, until I summon to
thine aid thy dear son Telemachus."
Therewith Aihene touched me with her wand. My

fair flesh she withered on my supple limhs, and made
Waste my yellow hair from off my head, and over all

my limhs she east the skin of .-in old man, and dimmed

my tWO eyes, erewhile so fair. And she changed my
raiment to a vile wrap and a, doublet, torn garments
rind filthy, stained Willi foul smoke. And over all

she clad me with the great ha Id hide of ,-i swiff stag,
and she gave me a siaff and a mean tattered scrip, and
a cord I herewith to hang it.

A RGOS
Ami when I came to the Swineherd's hut, lo ! a

48 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

hound raised up his head from where he lay, and
pricked his ears — Argos, the watch-dog which of old
myself had bred. Now was his master gone and he
lay out in the deep dung of mules and kine full of
vermin. Yet even now when he saw me, standing by
in the beggar's guise as I was, he wagged his tail and
dropped both his ears, but nearer to me he had not
the strength to draw.

I looked aside and wiped away a tear. But upon
Argos came the fate of black death even in the hour
that he beheld me, his dear master, again in the
twentieth year.

Act II

The Slaughter of the Suitors

As the last vision is fading away Penelope starts
up from her trance, and holds out her hands toward
the place where Odysseus had appeared. , The morning
light increases.

PENELOPE

ODYSSEUS, my lord, 'tis I — oh stay,
Odysseus! — Penelope, who calls,
Thy loving wife ! Oh, let us flee away

Together from the horror of these halls !
Ah, no, 'tis but another fantasy —
Again the cruel gods are mocking me.

Again they mock — yet hold, my heart, be still !

Never before have all my broken dreams
Been threaded through with his unfaltering will —

My lord's brave spirit! Vision true it seems,
As if his soul had bended heaven and hell
The tidings of his coming home to tell.

Oft have I seen him in my troubled sleep
Upon the field of battle wounded sore,

Or sinking in the unfathomable deep,
Or naked cast upon a desert shore,

Yet ne'er till now, wherever he might roam,

So plainly coming ever nearer home.

[49]

50 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Home, home at last! yet oh, so worn and old!

So weary, worn and old, and piteous poor!
My husband, let my loving arms enfold

Thy dear gray head, my toil-worn fingers cure
Thy bruises, and thy tattered garments mend;
My weak limbs walk with thine until the end.

For I would flee out of this troubled land
To quiet shores; surely the gods will smile

To see us wander hand in loving hand,
And lay aside their wrath a little while,

Granting to us, poor beggars twain, surcease

Of sorrow that we close our lives in peace.

Peace? nay, not such would my Odysseus crave;

Shame on my woman 's weakness ! Let the wife
Be worthy of her husband, ne'er so brave

As in disaster; let me rule my life
By his hereafter. Well his word I know:
li Prepare ye for my hand my spear and bow."

Penelope claps her hands. Enter Eurynome and
Eurycleia.

PENELOPE

To Eurynome:

Go, fetch my maidens.

EURYNOME

With their distaffs?

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 51

PENELOPE

Nay;

The time of spinning has forever passed ;
Know that for me the inevitable day

Has dawned — the day to choose my lord — at last,
Yet ill it is to yield without a fight;
So bring the maids for mimic war bedight.

And do thou fetch with thee the mighty spear
Odysseus left with me, when forth to Troy

He fared ; whose sight made all his f oemen fear
Its wielder's prowess. Haply its employ

E 'en now with dread may chill the suitor throng.

Go, bid thy maidens raise the hunting song.

Exit Eurynome.

To Eurycleia:
My duty calls me hence. I shall prepare,

Dear Eurycleia, for a fray more stern;
Thou knowest well what labor is my care,

And with me wilt conspire. Till my return
The maidens mocking battle to prolong,
Summon thine ancient lore of tale and song.

Often, dear nurse, hast thou the story told
How, ere I knew him, young Odysseus went

To see Autolycus, his grandsire old,

And with his uncles twain clomb the ascent

Of high Parnassus, hunting the wild boar

Within its brakes. Recount the tale once more.

Exit Penelope.

52 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Enter Eurynome in the guise of a huntress, bear-
ing the great spear of Odysseus, with Maidens, begirt
for the chase, and equipped with lesser spears.

Eurynome gives the spear to Eurycleia.

CHORUS
The Hunting of the Boar

EURYCLEIA

On the mountain side
Overlooking the meadows,
The cornlands fair,
The peopled shore —
The fields of his ravage —
Where thick boughs hide
His gray form in shadows,
He maketh his lair:
The robber hoar,
The foe of the farmer, the mighty, the savage —

MAIDENS

Boar, the wild boar!

EURYCLEIA

In silence profound
He keepeth his watch ;
Like red coals gleaming
His small eyes are;
His prickt ears catch
The distant sound;

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 53

He snuffeth the gale
With scent of men streaming
Up from the vale —
The wild boar alert, ever ready for war!

MAIDENS

The boar, the boar; he is ready for war!

EURYCLEIA

Anon he descrieth
Foes on his track!
The boarhounds bay;
Beaters are tramping
Through thickets dense;
A huntsman crieth

"Halloo!" while a whistle

Soundeth" Aback !"

The wild boar awaiteth the fray :

His white teeth are champing;

His muscles tense

Set all abristle

His ridged chine;
With fierce rage of battle his red eyes shine.

MAIDENS

Beware, beware,

When the boar's teeth champ,

And his fierce eyes shine!

Take care, take care,

When you see, as a sign

54 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Of his rage, the ridged bristles
Arise on his spine!

EURYCLEIA

The dogs ring round
The coppice dread ;
To enter they fear —
Afresh burn their olden
Scars at the sight.
Fierce challenge they sound.
The beaters draw near
With timorous tread
And clubs forward holden
Ready for flight,
Awaiting a spearman to lead to the fight.

MAIDENS

Who cometh, who cometh
With spear keen and bright,
Faint hearts to embolden
With courage to fight?

EURYCLEIA

A youth debonair!

Forward springing

The beaters' line through,

The hounds in loud cry

Aside he spurneth,

And faceth the wild boar's lair.

Backward flinging

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 55

His chlamys blue,
He lifteth on high,
Till bright in the sun the bronze point burneth,
This spear, that I hardly can raise —
Where is the man who can wield it
In these degenerate days?

MAIDENS

Odysseus! him dost thou praise.

None other could wield

In forest or field

The weapon thou hardly canst raise.

EURYCLEIA

Stir in the bushes,
A peal of ire!
The wild boar emergeth
Battle to wage —
He knoweth his peer!
Frothed are his tushes;
His eyes flash fire;
His whole body surgeth
With war's fell rage.
He rusheth upon the spear.
What weapon shall stay
The furious charge of a wild boar at bay?

MAIDENS

The wild boar at bay!
What man without fear

50 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

To oppose will essay
The fury that urgeth
A boar to the fray ?

EURYCLEIA

Odysseus unfearing

Awaiteth the charge;

At the boar's side

He aimeth a blow ;

But slight is the wound,

For tough to the spearing

As a warrior's targe

Is the lean beast's hide,

And the boar, driving on at his foe,

Beareth him down to the ground.

MAIDENS

Ai, di, the maddening wound!

If the great spear fail

The hero brave

In the wild boar's rush,

What might shall avail,

What godhead save

From the fierce beast's tush

Odysseus borne to the ground?

EURYCLEIA

The raging boar
In headlong career
With sharp tusk rippeth

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 57

Odysseus' knee;

It breaketh no bone,

But the blood runneth free.

At sight of the gore

Aloud cry the huntsmen in fear.

Odysseus giveth no groan,

But only more tightly he grippeth

The haft of his great boar-spear.

MAIDENS

The man without fear!
Though overthrown,
Though wounded sore,
He maketh no moan,
But to his feet leapeth,
And, grasping his spear,
Again he awaiteth the boar.

EURYCLEIA

The wild beast, burning

With rage and pain,

His course sharply turning,

Rusheth amain

Again to the fight;

But ready his foe is;

Odysseus lungeth

With his full might;

His great spear he plungeth

Deep in the boar's head.

So piercing the blow is

58 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

It reacheth the brain,

And felleth the fierce beast dead.

MAIDENS

The boar f alleth dead

Transfixed by the spear!

Never again

Shall he ravage the plain,

Holding the farmers in fear.

Hail to the hero who banished their dread,

For deeds like this ever dear!

EURYCLEIA

Autolycus' sons

Run swift to his side;

Their garments tearing,

They staunch at once

The black blood's tide;

Then, in arms upbearing

The youth aswound,

Still to the spear clinging,

A chant they raise,

Handed down from the former days,

That healeth the huntsman's wound;

And home they bear him with singing.

MAIDENS

They bear along

The youth with song

The blood's dark flow congealing.

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 59

Oh, who shall sound
For our country's wound
The ancient chant of healing?

EURYCLEIA

In our fair land,

Ithaca old,

Since the lord of it,

Odysseus brave,

To the war departed,

The wild beasts raven

In fruitful field,

In teeming fold,

For lack of a hand

His spear to wield,

For want of a wit

His scepter to hold,

His realm to save —

Robbers, boar-hearted,

Insolent, craven

Since none their force may defy ;

Spoilers swine-souled,

Who make of our palace a sty.

MAIDENS

Ouai!

With hearts of boars

Our prayers they scorn ;

They trample all day

Our standing corn,

Since none there is to withstay;

GO THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

With souls of swine
They enter our doors,
And nightlong wallow in wine.

EURYCLEIA

With fields uprooted,

His land laid waste,

Our prince is shamed,

Telemachus young,

In brave heart royal,

Though maiden his sword.

In palace polluted

Our queen is disgraced —

Penelope famed

Where 'er praise is sung

Of wifehood loyal

To a lost lord.

With song alone to defend her,

In this her day of surrender,

Come, let us our solace afford.

MAIDENS

The comfort that women tender

May give, shall her maidens afford;

The help in our hearts we shall lend her

In the hour she chooseth her lord.

Mayhap our love

At last shall prove

A mighty shield to defend her,

Our song a sharp sword.

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 61

SONG*
The Woman 's Kingdom

CHLORIS

When the age of the soul began
God gave the eartli to man

To subdue it with strength and will
According to His plan —

And the world is a man's world still:
A sad world, a mad world —
It never will be a glad world
Till time the purpose fulfil.

To strengthen him in the strife
God gave the man a wife

To do what he might ask,
To center in him her life —
This still is the woman's task:
A drear lot, severe lot,
And yet withal a dear lot
Since Love wears Service' mask.

The land, the sea, the air
To conquer is man's care

With plow and keel and plane;
Small is the woman's share,
The home is her domain:
A mean rule, unseen rule,
Yet here she may as queen rule
O'er man in Spirit's reign.

*This may be omitted, if deemed too modern in tone. Its
moral is that of the succeeding chorus.

62 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

With courage does she gird
Her lord as with a sword ;

With helm of honor bright
And shield of loyal word
She arms him in her might :
Though tearful and fearful
At heart, with bearing cheerful
She sends him forth to fight.

And when man's work is done,
His war with nature won,

Then shall the woman shine
Enthroned in the sun —

Her soul of faith the shrine:
Her spirit inherit
The rule of earth, to share it
With man in Love divine!

Penelope enters in the guise of Artemis, and takes
the spear of Odysseus from Eurycleia.

CHORUS

The Weapon of the Spirit

penelope

The soul of the spear

Is the soul of its bearer,

The warrior dread;

Its strength is his strength,

Its purpose his will;

His spirit shines clear

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 63

In radiant terror
From bronze-pointed head;
The ash-shafted length
With his rage is a-thrill,
The blood-lust of battle, the passion to kill.

MAIDENS

The spear, the spear !
Though dread it appear,
'Tis the spirit behind it
That points it with fear.

PENELOPE

The long, level line
Of spearmen surges
Like a glittering wave
Assaulting the strand;
Resistless in might
The keen points shine,
And the foemen brave,
Though his high heart urges
Him stoutly to stand,
Betakes him to flight,
And bloodless the spear is borne back from the fight.

MAIDENS

The spear, the spear !
The weapon of fear,
Returns from the quarrel
With point gleaming clear.

64 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

The spear, the spear!

It is never so dear

As when, wreathed in laurel,

No blood doth appear.

PENELOPE

A weapon strong
Is man that the Spirit
Hath shaped to her hand;
Thrilled are we through
With her purpose as flame,
The hosts of Wrong
Know it and fear it;
Will gives the command,
Hers is the due,
Yet Strength reaps the fame,
Or, failing, he casts upon Spirit the blame.

MAIDENS

We welcome the blame;
Be Spirit 's the shame
If she point not the weapon
The tyrant to tame.

PENELOPE

The spirit of man
Is regnant in Woman;
Her mind is its throne,
Her heart is the shrine
Of its sacred fire.

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS

65

The Soul of the Clan,
She flies on the foeman
Protecting her own —
A vision divine
And portent dire
Courage to hearten and fear to inspire.

MAIDENS

We burn with the fire;
The spear of his sire
To Telemachus give;
We his soul would inspire.

There is an uproar in the central hall, and
Telemachus in princely attire enters, accompanied by
Odysseus in the garb of a beggar. At the sight of the
latter Penelope is dazed for a moment, and then,
recalling the vision in which her husband appeared in
the same guise, she starts forward as if to throw her-
self at his feet, and cries:

My lord!

Odysseus frowns wamingly, and Penelope turns
to Telemachus as if it were he whom she has addressed,
and continues :

My son, for thou shalt take the place
To-day of him who was my spirit 's prop,
Whose soul e'en now is shining in thy face,
Come, play thy father; take this weapon —

66 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

TELEMACHUS

in lordly manner:

Stop,
Impetuous woman! though my time is near
It has not come; give to our guest the spear,

For, worn with wandering he hath no staff,
A warrior old, his hand is weaponless;

Penelope hands the spear to Odysseus.

He is athirst; the wine-cup let him quaff.

Penelope looks at Eurynome inquiringly, who shakes
her head in a gesture of negation which Penelope
sadly repeats to Telemachus.

Bring water, then, for sore is his distress,
Water in ewer as well as cup, to lave
His soiled feet. He was a comrade brave

Of great Odysseus, when the Trojan wall
He breached with guile ; a fellow of his band

Of bold sea-rovers, who on Ilium's fall

Sought with stout hearts to win their native land

Against the purpose of Poseidon fell.

Refreshed, our guest the moving tale shall tell.

PENELOPE

Nay, son (if still with me some empire lies
O'er woman's realm), I would thy charge amend:

Let him not bare his scars to curious eyes;
A reverent hand his bruised feet shall tend

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 67

Within my chamber. As an honored guest,
Yes, as my lord himself, there shall he rest.

Eurynome comes forward to conduct Odysseus to
Penelope* s chamber. Penelope objects:

Not thine, housemistress, though for ready zeal
We hold thee dear, shall be this sacred task.

She addresses Odysseus.

If thou wouldst deign to elder eyes reveal
Thy limbs, let me —

Odysseus frowns in dissent at the idea of her per-
forming the service, and she adroitly turns the
reference.

— old Eurycleia ask
Odysseus nods assent.

To do this service, once accounted sweet
When eve brought bedward little dusty feet.

For when Odysseus ran a romping boy,

Or as a youth came wounded from the chase,

She was his nurse. Still she recounts with joy
His features fair and lithe young body's grace;

For, though with creeping age her eyes are dim,

Her memory holds him clear in line and limb —

Ay, every mark upon his body white
Of marring mole or ridged ruddy scar.

68 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Wearied of life, she prays but for the sight
Of her dear master coming from the war,
That she once more may lave his feet, and kiss
His ancient wounds, and so may die in bliss.

Go then, good Eurycleia, and attend

Our guest, as if he were indeed thy lord,

Mayhap the gods, who see us thus befriend
The needy stranger, may their grace accord

That other hearts be softened to entreat

Our wanderer with charity as sweet.

Eurycleia conducts from the scene the limping
Odysseus who pauses to hand the spear to Penelope,
as the occasion of addressing her a few words inaudi-
ble to all save herself. After his departure Penelope
addresses the house-mistress:

And thou Eurynome, to cheer the heart

Of my shamed son, who for his mother's sake

Foregoes desire to play a prince's part

And lead his folk against their spoilers, take

Thy maidens fair, and a new dance array:

The Race of Atalanta let them play.

CHORUS

The Foot Race

eurynome

What slender youth
His body bareth
To enter the race,

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 69

The arduous toil

Of the circling track?

Strong is he, in sooth,

Though the aspect he weareth,

In beardless face,

In hairless breast,

In smooth-muscled back,

Still of a boy.

Telemachus advances, and throwing off his cloak,
stands nude, save for his sandals and a loin-cloth. He
assumes the pose of "Mercury Belvedere."

MAIDENS

Eia, iavoil

We hail with joy

And welcome warm

The runner whose form

Hath the strength of a man

And the grace of a boy —

Eia, iavoil

EURYNOME

To prepare for the task
He taketh the flask
That athletes aye bear,
And with oil doth anoint
Each muscle and joint
With sedulous care;
Then he kneadeth the skin
Till the oil is rubbed in,

70 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

And his body gleameth

With the healthy glow

Of the blood's quickened flow,

Till a young god he seemeth

In beauty rare —

Hermes the fair,

The herald slender,

Swift in the race.

Telemachus takes from the folds of his cloaks an
oil-flask and anoints his body, kneading it thereafter.
At the close he assumes the pose of the brontfe Mercury
in the Naples gallery.

MAIDENS

lo, to!

The athlete tender,

In form and in face

Lithe Hermes appeareth.

Immortal grace

As a nimbus he weareth;

Like to a god doth he show.

lol

EURYNOME

With strigil of steel,

Curved to fit

The muscles ' slope,

He scrapeth the oil

From each supple limb.

New strength doth he feel;

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 71

His face is alit
With victory's hope;
For the course's toil
With purpose grim
He testeth each thew.

MAIDENS

lo, eleleu!

Telemachus goes to his cloak, and replacing therein
the oil-flask, takes from it a strigil, with which he
scrapes his body, at the end assuming the pose of
"The Athlete with the Strigil." Beplacing the strigil
in the cloak, he then exercises the muscles of his limbs,
breast, and back, ending with the pose of the "Farnese
Hercules." He then practises the running stride, end-
ing with the pose of the "Flying Mercury."

EURYNOME

Who is it advanceth

To vie with the youth

In the contest of speed?

From the cheek's brown tan

From the strength displayed

As forward she pranceth,

Ye would call her, in sooth,

A rival to heed,

Fit match for a man,

This muscled maid;

An athlete true!

72 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Dymas hastens forward in a running stride, in the
guise of Atalanta. Her robe is begirt for running.
She assumes the pose of "Diana in the Vatican."

MAIDENS

lo, eleleu!

As the champion good

Of the hardihood

Of our sex doth she show

lo!

EURYNOME

Atalanta the swift,

Ever victorious!

What man will compete

With womanhood's pride?

Who dareth aspire

To conquer the maid ?

See Hippomenes smile,

Serene, unafraid,

Since the golden gift

Of Cypris glorious,

The apples sweet

Of fond desire,

In his hands he doth hide

The maiden to wile.

Telemachus takes from his cloak two golden apples
which he holds in his hands.

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 73

MAIDENS

No fear doth he know,
Trusting the while
In the gift of Cypris
The maid to beguile.

Bymas advances toward Telemachus. Both stand
before the altar, and make obeisance to the goddess
Artemis.

EURYNOME

Obeisance due

To Dian they make,

Patron divine

To both of them dear.

MAIDENS

lo, eleleu!

With Dian, we, too,
No favor would show,
lo! io I

The contestants advance to the starting line and
stand side by side.

EURYNOME

Their places they take
At the starting line,
Nor heed they our cheer,
To their purpose true.

74 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Io, eleleu!

MAIDENS

EURYNOME

He is crouching to speed

At my word, but no heed

Taketh the may,

Her rival scorning;

Then One! for the warning,

Two, Three, and away!

MAIDENS

Io! oel

The contestants spring forward, Telemachus in the
lead.

EURYNOME

Forward they spring ;

The man in the lead is

By a stride's length,

His impulse like

To the start of a swallow;

As a hawk taketh wing

Slower her speed is ;

She saveth her strength

Till the time to strike,

Yet close doth she follow;

Forth from the court do they fly.

During this recitation the runners disappear from
the scene at the left of the stage.

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 75

MAIDENS

Oa, ouai!

We cannot descry

The course o'er the white sea sand.

Eurynome dear,

Climb the steps high

And picture to us the swift race.

From thee let us hear,

Let us see in thy face,

How the runners appear —

Still are they speeding apace?

Eurynome ascends the steps, and gazes after the
runners. In the course of her following description
she turns her gaze gradually from the left front of the
stage around by the central front to the right.

EURYNOMK

Swift is the man,
Hippomenes strong;
With mighty stride
On the maiden gaining,
He forgeth ahead;
She, as she began,
Runneth along,
In graceful glide
Her strength restraining
Till his shall have sped —
The champion sly!

76 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

MAIDENS

Oa, ouai!

The maiden, disdaining

With confident pride

Her rival, is feigning :

Her strength doth she hide.

EURYNOME

Though strong yet in limb,
Hippomenes tireth;
His features drawn
His failing breath show;
But his purpose grim
His heart anew fireth
Ere its power hath gone,
And, enduring the strain,
Still on doth he go.

MAIDENS

Io!

When mind takes the rein

The body its master doth know.

EURYNOME

Atalanta fleet,

Hippomenes after,

As the stride he doth slack,

Forward is bounding

Like the lithe pard

With swiftness and grace

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 77

O'ertaking a deer.
At the sound of her feet,
Or her lips' low laughter,
He glanceth back,
Then, onward pounding,
Though still breathing hard,
He speedeth his pace,
Running by will-power sheer.

MAIDENS

Eia! we cheer

The heart that ne'er faileth for fear.

EURYNOME

Now the man hath she passed,

The maiden swift,

With eyes on the goal;

But, upraising his hand,

Doth Hippomenes cast

A Paphian gift:

Gleaming an apple doth roll

Before her along the white strand,

Till aside from the course it doth lie.

MAIDENS

Oa, ouail

Fain would we the act understand:
He letteth a fair apple fly
Before her to bound on the sand;
Eurynome, pray tell us why?

78 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

EURYNOME

The maiden observeth
The tempting sight,
And in her heart leapeth
Desire uncontrolled.
A quick turn making,
Her stride she swerveth
Toward the sphere bright;
In her hand she upsweepeth
The apple of gold,
With joy the gift taking
As a prize for her might,
Before her by Artemis rolled.

MAIDENS

lau, iavoi!

She taketh with joy

As a gift from above

The apple of love

That too oft doth a maiden destroy.

EURYNOME

The apple hiding

Her girdle within,

To the course she returneth ;

Though far in the lead

Is Hippomenes striding,

Yet trust still to win

In her heart high burnetii ;

She reneweth her speed.

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 79

MAIDENS

Maiden, have heed!

Atalanta, take care!

The passion of greed

Is the high gods' gin

Wherein they ensnare

Souls that by pride have been led into sin.

Victory's meed

We wish now thy rival to wear.

EURYNOME

The maiden, urging

Her strength to the strain,

Her hot blood surging

Through every vein,

With quickening stride

In burst of speed

The man hath o 'er taken,

And side by side

They fight for the lead.

Now off he is shaken !

Once more

She forgeth her rival before.

The goal they draw nigh —

MAIDENS

Oa, ouai!
In sorrow we cry,
Hippomenes vanquished
To victory nigh!

80 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

EURYNOME

Nay, get for him bays,
Palm branches bring.

Adraste goes out.

Once more his hand doth he raise,

And hurleth, like stone from a sling,

In front of the maiden fleet

The apple of gold

That still he doth hold;

It boundeth along at her feet.

The contestants enter the scene from the right,
Dymas running in front, with the apple bounding
along by her side.

Again desire,

Passion impure,

Her heart doth fire,

The apple to catch

At her feet that doth roll.

The golden lure

She stoopeth to snatch —

And Hippomenes crosseth the goal!

The contestants take the position of Atalanta and
Hippomenes in Poynter's painting of the race. In
the meantime Adraste has returned with palm-leaves
and laurels, which she distributes to the Maidens,
Waving the palm leaves they cry :

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 81

MAIDENS

lo, evoi!

We shout in our joy,

Hippomenes winneth the race!

Yet we cry eleleu!

For our champion too —

Our sex hath not suffered disgrace,

So let both in the victory share.

With wreath of bay

His head we adorn,

And to Cypris we pray

That the apples, borne

In the bosom fair

Of the maiden chaste,

True Love shall inspire

Till Greed's desire

And the passion of Pride are effaced.

Telemachus and Dymas kneel before the altar, the
latter placing the apples in her bosom. Eurynome
crowns Telemachus with a wreath of laurel. The
Maidens then in pantomime invoke Aphrodite.

SONG

Ode to Aphrodite

By Sappho

PERSE

Throned in splendor, immortal one, and mighty
Daughter of Zeus, wile-weaving Aphrodite,

82 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Let not thy wrath with terror's pangs affray me,
Nor weariness o'erweigh me.

Come to me now, if ever in the olden
Days thou didst hearken afar, and from the golden
Halls of thy father come with all speeding
Unto my pleading.

Down through mid aether from heaven's highest

regions,
Yoking thy car, upborne by lovely legions
Of fluttering sparrows, clouding with their pinions
Earth's broad dominions,

Swiftly thou earnest, and, blessed one, with smiling
Countenance immortal my heavy heart beguiling,
Askedst the cause of my pitiful condition —
Why my petition?

What most I craved in brain-bewildered yearning?
Whom would I win, winsome in her spurning?
"Who is the maiden, evilly requiting
Fond love with slighting?

"She now who flies soon shall turn pursuing,
Cold now to love, weary thee with wooing,
Gifts that she spurned with other gifts reclaiming
Unto her shaming."

Come thus again; from cruel care deliver;
Of all that my heart wills graciously be giver —
Greatest of gifts, thy loving self and tender
To be my defender.

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 83

TELEMACHUS

For the heart-cheering dance, my mother dear,
I thank thee. May it soon an omen prove

Of Ithaca redeemed, when song and cheer

Shall woes supplant, and strife shall end in love.

But now dismiss the maids for play more bold,

For with thee would I secret converse hold

On martial themes.

PENELOPE

Go then, Eurynome,
And fit thy maidens for a sterner dance;
The Battle of the Bowmen would we see;
Let them as archers to the fray advance,
Preparing us for contest grim and great
That now I plainly see shall save the state.

Exit Eurynome and Maidens.

Now that none other may our secret share
That in thine eyes already cries aloud,

The message of thy swelling heart declare
To me, the gladdest of all mothers proud.

Joy conquers pain as when thy life began;

Again I cry, "I have brought forth a man!"
Penelope hands the spear to Telemachus.

TELEMACHUS

In the early watch of yester night there came
To me, as bound in slumber deep I lay,

84 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Athene, in her battle-garb aflame,

And bade me instant rise, and take my way
To the house of our good keeper of the swine,
Eumaeus. I obeyed the dream divine,

And sought the hut with mingled hope and dread
Which soon were tinged with sadness, for I found

Before the door old Argos lying dead,

My boyhood's playmate, Father's favorite hound,

Which ever mourned his absence. "Ah, at last,"

I sighed, ' ' for thee the days of grief are passed.

"Athene, let this prove an omen good,

That to myself and mother it portend
My shamed state and her long widowhood

And our joint sorrow near a welcome end."
With beating heart I softly tried the door
And slipped within, and sank upon the floor,

And sat there breathless in the hovel's gloom
Unnoted by the swineherd or his guest,

The wanderer here, who stood within the room
And told the story of the wondrous quest

Of great Odysseus through many a land

To win his home in safety with his band,

Of which the stranger said he was the least,
A common archer, who had lost his bow

In that great storm whose rage but late has ceased,
Which all save him had hurled to depths below.

A well-wrought tale, yet its too perfect craft

Wrought such fond hope within me that I laughed,

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 85

And at the sound there turned to me — my sire!
Mother, thou startest not!

PENELOPE

My clever son,
Thy father's mind in thee I much admire

But thinkest thou thy heart could mine outrun?
Nay, ere thou didst him in the hut divine,
I knew his coming. Lo, of this the sign !

She holds up the spear.

For ready to his hand I brought this spear,

And with my hand its point I burnished bright;

And bade my maids with lances light appear
To raise our spirits to heroic height

So that we might our cup of courage pour

Into my lord's full soul that it run o'er.

Then from the armory in stealth I brought
Odysseus' mail, that, donned in youthful pride,

He wore what time my father's court he sought
And wooed and won me as a willing bride —

Cuirass and greaves and helm, with cunning made

Of brass and gold — and in my chamber laid

The rich array, and burnished bright its sheen ;

With them I set his great bow, waxen well,
And quiver of long arrows, true and keen,

And newly fledged for their mission fell.
To none till now, save Eurycleia old,
Leal and discreet, have I my purpose told.

86 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

TELEMACHUS

Athene, patron goddess of our line,

Hath surely granted thee her prescient grace,

Since all thine actions with the deep design
Of wise Odysseus have run apace,

For he hath fixed his mind this very day

With bow and spear the suitor band to slay.

E'en now the temper of their souls we tried,
And found them evil all, save Phemius blind.

Odysseus, with Eumaeus as his guide,

Came to the feast that he perchance might find

Pity that oft in rudest breasts hath room,

And so might save the kindly hearts from doom.

I went before, and, when within the hall

There limped the beggar by the swineherd led,

Braving the wrath my princely actions call
From the proud suitors on my youthful head,

I prayed them grant the needy stranger's right,

And bade him beg from each a portion slight.

And, as from bench to bench Odysseus passed
With humble mien among that evil crew,

Antinoiis at his head an ox-hoof cast,

Saying in jest, "There, stranger, take thy due."

Lightly Odysseus from it leaped aside,

And, "Thee I shall repay the first," replied;

Whereat with rage the hall grew clamorous;
Above the din Eurymachus' voice I caught;

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 87

•'Despicable beggar, wouldst thou threaten us?

By whom wast thou to bait us hither brought1? —
Telemachus ? ' ' "Nay, from his sire I come
To taste the welcome men who stayed at home

"Give to the heroes who return from war,"
My sire replied: whereat the giant wode

Hurled at his head a mighty earthen jar,

Which burst against the wall. The red wine flowed

In pools upon the floor. ' ' A guilty sign,

Eurymachus; thy blood shall flow like wine."

Then to my father fs side I quickly flew ;

Odysseus upraised his godlike form
To its full height, and back the suitors drew

Behind the benches, whence they sent a storm
Of bones and joints, with wine-jars in their train;
i ' You shower on us meat and drink like rain, ' '

Odysseus cried, "and, in your courtesy

Your places at the table giving o'er,
Would burden us with hospitality;

Such generous hosts I have not met before.
Prince, let us hence, that we may counsel take
For this great kindness fit return to make."

So from the Banquet Hall into this court
We backward drew with faces to the foe

Resolved to repay their savage sport
With mortal vengeance of the spear and bow.

So let thy maids in martial rank advance

To spur my spirit with the bowman 's dance.

88 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Penelope claps her hands. Enter Eurynome and
Maidens, the former bearing a lance with a red pennon,
and the latter small bows and dainty quivers filled
with little arrows. The Maidens are in boyish costume.

CHORUS

The Archers

eurynome

Warriors maiden
In mimic marches
We move to the battle
With shout of joy.

MAIDENS

Evoi! evoi!

EURYNOME

Our hands are laden
With tiny arches;
Our gay quivers rattle
With arrows toy.

MAIDENS

Evoi! evoi!

The weapons men bear
With labor and care
In sport we employ.

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 89

EURYNOME

As children enhancing
Life's vigor with play,
With shouting and dancing,
In battle array
Retreating, advancing,
We figure the fray
Of our archers at Troy.

MAIDENS

Evoi! evoi!

Let us mock the fierce fray

Of the bowmen at Troy,

Awaiting the day

When the world shall be mended,

And men, their strife ended,

Shall join with the children in play.

Evoi!

Enter Earycleia.

EURYCLEIA

Eurynome, I bid thee cease the dance.

She addresses Penelope.

By higher power than thine, my mistress dear,
I charge thee stop this play, Let the light lance

Vail its bright pennon to the mighty spear,
The girlish arch to warrior's bow give place;
Know, maidens, I have seen him, face to face!

90 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

By emotive gestures and ejaculations Eurynome and
the Maidens express questioning wonder, and Penelope
and Telemachus similarly show consternation at what
may be a premature disclosure of the return of
Odysseus. Eurycleia addresses mother and son:

Well wot ye whom I mean. When I disclose
To all these eager ears the secret sweet

Which close you guard against our crafty foes,
Fear not; I know the maidens are discreet

Nor will betray the tidings of great joy

I bring. Know that the man returned from Troy —

Is even Odysseus, our beloved lord !

Eurynome and the Maidens silently express in
emotive gestures and expression their joy at the reve-
lation, mingled, however, with incredulity.

Upon his knee I have beheld the scar
Made by the wild boar's tusk, so deeply gored

In his young flesh that it remains to mar
His manly form which else were blemishless —
A blot that once I mourned, but now I bless.

Again my master's limbs I have arrayed
In armor of his youth, whose princely sheen

Gleams bright as when he donned it first, the maid
Of Sparta's court to woo and win as queen,

Penelope, then fair as Helen famed —

For virtue now above all women named.

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 91

Within his hand I placed the mighty bow
Which to his yearning youth a traveller gave

In pledge of common spirit. Long ago
The giver met his doom — Iphitus brave,

Whom Heracles his host in envy slew

For deeds that he had done and yet might do.

And so Odysseus, when he went to Troy,
Laid by the weapon as a sacred thing,

Memorial of sadness mixt with joy —

That deathless love which death alone can bring —

And on his back I girt with leathern thong

A quiver full of arrows, keen and long.

Then over all his beggar's cloak I threw —

The shining mail, the arrows winged with death —
Lo, here he comes.

Enter Odysseus, still enveloped in the beggar's
cloak.

Hail him, ye maidens true,
But only with glad eyes and bated breath,
Dear lord, we bend obedient to thy will
Like bows that with the archer's purpose thrill.

All bow before Odysseus who takes his place in the
center upon the steps with Penelope and Telemachus
on either side.

ky, and as weapons tried and true impart
Sense of sure mastery to the wielding hand,

92 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

We shall return the impulse to thy heart,

And guide thine arm to do thy will's command.
Dip, then, thy shafts in venom of our hate,
And each shall fly to its doomed target straight.

CHORUS

The Origin of the Bow

eurycleia

Hermes, lover

Of wastrels winning,

Scamps big and little,

Patron smiling

Of cunning and craft,

To us discover

The bow's beginning,

What herd-boy with whittle

His idlesse whiling

First formed arch and shaft.

MAIDENS

What godhead, man ever beguiling,
Looked down on the mischief and laughed.

1 EURYCLEIA

Of a fir bough he formed
The supple arch;
A reed of the mere
The arrow afforded;
Cedar bark did he twist
For the cord of his bow.

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 93

That men with it armed
To battle would march
Against the dread spear
Unshielded, unsworded,
The boy never wist,
E'en the gods did not know.

MAIDENS

To the engine of war

That strikes from afar,

By Hermes designed,

Only contempt was accorded.

By none save him,

Not Ares grim

Nor Athene the wise,

Was the war-bow divined

That out of the plaything should rise

Till over all weapons it lorded.

EURYCLEIA

Long as a child

Its kindred among,

The war-spear bright

And lance arm-flung,

The bow remained.

By death undefiled,

By blood unstained,

For play alone was it strung.

Yet the play was to fight,

To conquer, to kill! —

94 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

The passion of man, old and young,
For power is ever his will.

MAIDENS

To slay, to spill

Blood, to destroy

Life, is man's joy.

His pastime still

As it was when a boy,

And shall be until

The spirit of woman

His heart shall illumine

And drive from its lair

The beast that lurks there,

And render our race wholly human.

EURYCLEIA

The small bird singing
On the bough swinging,
The lizard sunning
His length on the wall;
These were the lad's quarry,
Now crouching, now running
Creeping and gliding
Through grasses tall
His movements hiding,
He made his foray.

MAIDENS

Let us mimic in dance
The childish play:

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 95

The stealthy advance

Of the boy with the bow

And blunt-headed arrow

Stalking his prey

That feared not the foe —

The lizard lithe and the sparrow.

EURYCLEIA

From the dart weakly sped,

The quick lizard glided

A cranny within.

Away the bird flew

And, singing, derided

The weapon new.

The boy hung his head;

Deep was his chagrin

That the pert sparrow laughed

In scorn at the craft

On which himself he had prided.

MAIDENS

Boy-like, the blame

He casts for the shame

On the bow in whose strength he confided.

EURYCLEIA

With head elate

And forkt tongue hissing

Inveterate hate

At our heeled race,

96 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

A coiled snake,

In the roadside dust

Invited attack.

With fear aquake

The boy drew back

A stride's short space;

Then into his heart

Came courage, new trust

In his weapon's strength;

And, fitting a dart,

He drew to its length

The bow, and shot without missing!

MAIDENS

Willi clubbed bow

He kills the stunned foe,

And home bears the coil

As a warrior's spoil

To his mother dear,

Who shudders in fear,

Yet still rewards him with kissing.

EURYCLEIA

What deity dread
The daring deed
Of the lad inspired?
What godhead fired
With courage his heart,
His weak arm nerving
To send unswerving
The feeble dart

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 97

At the serpent's head?

From his seat of splendor

The god of the sun,

Hyperion,

Of man defender,

Looked down and took heed.

He saw within

The heart of the boy

Man's spirit defending

With primal joy

The Race from its foe,

The. serpent's seed,

The symbol of Sin —

A contest portending,

The struggle with Wrong;

And to the lad lending

The will to win,

His arm he made strong.

MAIDENS

Apollo, the glorious

Spirit of light,

Sent him victorious

Home from the fight,

Presaging the triumph of Right.

ODYSSEUS

Thanks, Eurycleia, for the simple tale

That thou wast wont to tell me when, a boy,

I leaned against thy knee, and grew, now pale

When hissed the serpent, and now flushed with joy

98 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

When he lay writhing. Proud was I to know
A boy like me had made the primal bow.

But late I heard the legend in new guise
Perhaps more pleasing to a maiden's mind,

For to romance the girlish fancy flies

When childhood's wonderland is left behind;

Her heart is by a hero never won

If he come not in splendor of the sun.

While in Alcinoiis' court I was a guest

Thither there came a wandering minstrel. Young

And godlike fair he was, with youthful zest
For bold adventure. Enviously he sung

Heroic deeds, to which his soul inclined

Alas! in vain — the gods had made him blind.

With meaner envy was my bosom stirred,

With jealousy I own it to my shame,
For all had hung upon my slightest word —

Matron and maiden — ere the minstrel came
To win them from me with his magic song.
From morn till eve about me would they throng

To hear such stories as a warrior rude,
A plain, sea-faring man, could baldly tell

Of his adventures strange by field and flood,
True tales, pardie, since all do know full well

Marvels a many must the sailor meet:

Harpies with women's breasts and taloned feet,

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 99

Gorgons whom hissing serpents serve for hair,
Witches whose potions make of man a beast,

Fish-tailed sirens that with song ensnare

The passing seamen on whose flesh they feast,

Grim giants, grislier made by one lone eye:

Wonders too great for the enlarging lie.

But he, this boyish bard they call "the Blind,"
Made all these marvels seem but fancies fond

Matched with the wondrous visions in his mind ;
His soul's eye pierced into the world beyond

The senses' ken, and, daring, did he tell

Secrets of highest heaven and deepest hell.

The gods, I think, for this presumption bold
Blasted his body's sight, since even they

The prescience of the soul may not withhold ;
So to appease their wrath he made essay

By flattering them most grossly in his song,

Doing in this to mortals grievous wrong.

Athene, bear me witness that whate 'er

Of craft and courage lies within my heart

To impute to thee has ever been my care;
Yet in my deeds I claim the doer's part.

But to the gods the fawning poet tribe

Both mortal act and impulse must ascribe.

Myself and all my fellow warriors brave

This cozening bard with seeming praise maligned,

Since the whole credit for our deeds he gave
To gods unseen save by his subtle mind.

100 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

'Twas they who aimed the Achaean hero's blow,
And snatched the Trojan coward from the foe.

So, too, the nameless heroes of our race

Whose thought and toil its ancient triumphs won,

With gods and demigods he did replace:
Prometheus stole fire from the sun;

Bacchus taught men with wine their thirst to slake;

Apollo with the bow first quelled the snake.

This deed of Phoebus that the poet sang

Had that uncanny charm the serpent wields;

The women, thrilled with the ecstatic pang
Of terror which the sense of danger yields,

Would flee like birds, then flutter back again.

Would you, too, taste the sweetness of its pain?

MAIDENS

We fear, yet are fain

The legend to hear

Of the foe of our race,

The serpent, slain

By Phoebus Apollo,

To maidens dear

For beauty and grace.

Like the cliff swallow

Who findeth a snake

Coiled in her nest 's hollow

Our hearts are aquake;

We tremble, and yet we would follow

Each movement the Python may make.

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 101

RECITATION

The Slaying of the Python

From Ovid

ODYSSEUS

When passed the Age of Gold, that knew not gold
Save in the flowery mintage of the mead,

The honey dripping from the oak-tree old,

The grain that ripened from the self-sown seed;

After the Age of Silver, too, had flown,

When gains were reckoned in earth's fruits alone;

There came the Ages of the metals base,

Gross Brass and grosser Iron, which men wrought

To war's fell use, and evil grew apace;

For land and goods brother with brother fought,

And all the earth was drenched with blood and tears,

So that the high gods fled to kindlier spheres.

Then Zeus was wroth, and in his righteous ire
He sent a flood to drown the evil brood;

All were o'erwhelmed, save him, our race's sire,
Deucalion just, and Pyrrha, mother good,

Who dwelt alone upon Parnassus' height.

Then, when on earth the sun again shone bright,

Its god Apollo downward cast his eyes,

And saw, engendered from the noisome slime,

A spawn of horrid crawling monsters rise,
Incarnate forms of every sin and crime

102 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

That had possessed the word ere it was drowned;
Chief of them all, that King of Evil crowned,

The serpent Python, enemy of man.

Lifting his head against the race redeemed,
Ay, against Zeus, his foe since time began,

His eyes with hideous fascination gleamed,
Drawing to their destruction with strange lure
The folk created by our parents pure.

Uprose great Phoebus ; with one foot advanced
He grasped his bow, and hailed his arrows keen

Upon the snake. Within the sun they glanced
Like beams that through the rifted clouds are seen;

Smiting the Foe of Man in his flat head,

Through every coil, they laid the monster dead.

While Odysseus is describing the killing of the
Python, Telemachus instinctively steps forward to the
center of the stage, and takes the pose of the " Apollo
Belvedere,*' the while the Maidens by emotive gestures
express the fascination of horror, terminated by the
relief of joy.

So, in memorial of the mighty deed
The Pythian festival the god ordained,

The contests keen of manly strength and speed

That the Hellenic youths have since maintained —

The bloodless strife which links the hearts of men

In love, to bring the Golden Age again.

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 103

PANTOMIME
The Pythian Games

The Maidens enact the Pythian Games, Telemachus
taking various athletic poses of Greek statuary, such
as the "Discus Thrower."

ODYSSEUS

Forbear the games; the archer's dance resume;

One contest lies before us, ere in joy
We celebrate the evil Python's doom.

Nemesis' symbol once again employ:
The far-flung arrow hurtling on the foe.
Maidens, enact the Vengeance of the Bow.

Eurynome and the Maidens take up their bows and
arrows, and in pantomime illustrate the action de-
scribed by Odysseus (who bears the great bow) in his
following narrative, and express the emotions aroused
thereby. In particular they assume the poses of the
Niobe group of sculptures.

For well I know within my mind and soul
The day has come when our fell foes shall fall;

Smitten by Fate, down in the dust shall roll
Antinoiis fair, Eurymachus, yea all

The suitors proud, presumptuous in their sin —

The gates of Hades yawn to let them in

104 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

In bloody shoals. So come, my tale attend,
And learn from it that Nemesis ne'er nods:

The story of the Theban queen's sad end,

Slain mid her sons and daughters by the gods,

Latona's twins, for her unholy pride.

Listen how Niobe and her children died.

RECITATION

The Fate of Niobe
From Meleager and Ovid

ODYSSEUS

It was upon the Phoebean Festival,

When all the Theban folk together came,

Each brow bedecked with leafy coronal,

Each hand fulfilled with incense for the flame

Upon the altar of the Heavenly Twins,

To pray for purging of the people's sins,

That Niobe, their beauteous mother queen,
Proud of her stalwart sons and daughters fair,

Cried to the crowd: "What folly this, unseen
Beings to worship, when in beauty rare,

Ay, greater than in sun and moon doth shine,

My children stand before you. Pay divine

" Honors to me then, who the brood did bear;

Sevenfold am I the goddess Leto is,
For she is mother to a single pair

And fourteen perfect children crown my bliss;

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 105

If I of some by Fortune be bereft
Greater than Leto shall I still be left.''

And so the silly folk enwreathed with bays
Her children, and to them the incense burned,

And sang the hymn prepared for Leto's praise
To Niobe as better by her earned,

Latona, thus in sight of mortals shamed,

And of the gods, with anger was inflamed,

And, calling her children from their seats afar,

Apollo, dazzling as his orb at noon,
Dian, whose beauty pales the evening star,

She said, "I, who brought forth the Sun and Moon,
Am flouted by a mortal mother. Go,
Visit her with the vengeance of the bow."

Down through the air the heavenly archers sped,
And on the Theban towers took their place.

Before the gates a broad champaign there spread
Whereon the city's youth with skill and grace

Pursued their sports, the chiefest of the throng

Niobe 's princely sons. Urging along

His foaming steeds, Ismenos, eldest born,
With mastering art his gilded chariot drave;

Him the first arrow struck. With cry forlorn
From out the car he fell, yet still he clave

Unto the reins. The steeds with maddened bound

His lifeless body dragged along the ground.

106 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

His brother, then, as strong and fair of form,
The next in birth, hearing the bow-twang loud,

As when a boatman sees the gathering storm,
And all his sails to make the port doth crowd,

Gave his steeds rein the winged death to escape.

Him the next arrow on his neck's fair nape

Struck and felled prone. Two sons (but lads they
were)

Wrestled upon the green with limbs locked fast;
One arrow pierced them through their bodies fair;

One cry they gave, together breathed their last.
Two elder brothers, hastening to their side,
By arrows twain o'ertaken fell and died.

Remained of all the brothers one alone;

Lifting his supplicating hands to heaven,
Witless whose hand the deadly shafts had thrown,

1 1 Spare me, ye gods ! ' ' he cried. Last of the seven,
Him Phoebus would have saved, but ah, the dart
Had left the bow; it pierced him to the heart.

The other youths fled to the town aghast
And to the queen the woful tidings told.

Forth to the field came Niobe running fast,
And when she saw her dear sons' corses cold

She knelt and kissed them o 'er and o 'er again.

And yet her spirit, proud for all her pain,

Defiance breathed against the goddess high

Who well she wist had wrought the bloody deed.
"Gloat, cruel Latona, o'er mine agony,

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 107

And full your rage upon mine anguish feed,
But yet recall, when to their graves I follow
My seven sons, thou hast but thine Apollo

"And Artemis, while seven daughters still
Remain of the fair children that I bore.

Lo, here they come. Exult, then, an thou will,
Richer am I than thou, my conqueror ! ' '

Boldly she spoke, for her excess of grief

In her old wont of boasting found relief.

Then, as the sisters ran with piteous cries
Upon the field, and bent with woful mien

Over their brothers dead, down from the skies
There rained another storm of arrows keen,

Which slew the mourning maidens where they stood,

Mingling their own with their dear brothers ' blood.

One girl sank on the corse which she bewailed;

One died, her mother seeking to console;
One turned to flee, and was by death assailed;

One hid in vain beneath her ample stole;
A fifth faced shuddering the coming blow;
A sixth in utter terror crouched low;

The last the mother sheltered with her form,
"Spare me but one, my j^oungest," Niobe cried;

But even as she spake the heart-blood warm
Gushed o'er her bosom from the daughter's side.

Then stirless, speechless, with her dead alone

She stood, till grief transformed her into stone.
* * ' * * *

A time there was for dancing; it has passed.

108 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

A time for ancient legends; it is gone.
The hour for action stern has struck at last;

The day of duty now is at its dawn.
Come, son, and learn with me what mighty odds
They have who fight with favor of the gods.

Odysseus and Telemachus descend the steps of the
palace, and stand in an attitude of worship before
the altar.

INVOCATION

The Prayer to the Gods

odysseus

Apollo, first I pay thee honors due;

Long have I felt thine enmity divine,
And to the end my error shall I rue,

My comrades ' slaughter of thy sacred kine.
I know thou wilt forgive the old offence
And grant me power to prove my penitence,

For on a mission like thine own we go
To slay the Python in our halls that lies;

And so to thee I dedicate my bow;

Grant that it prove a pleasing sacrifice.

To thee this quiver, gracious Artemis,

Its darts, like thine, devote to Nemesis.

Poseidon, take for thine this toil-worn frame,
For oft hath it been wreckage of the sea;

Granting it power first to cleanse the shame
That blots my palace — then I give it thee,

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 109

And I shall go beyond the Ocean's end
To do thy bidding, and my sin amend.

Athene, patron dear, my mind and heart
To thee devoted were in days of old;

Grant me no favors; I shall play my part;
But to my son lend thou thy spirit bold,

Thy wisdom great. Let his be honor higher

Than mine — the son be hailed above the sire.

Odysseus and Telemachus ascend the steps. They
embrace Penelope. Odysseus suddenly kicks and
thrusts open the valved door leading into the Banquet
flail, and then, throwing off his cloak and drawing his
bow, followed by Telemachus pointing forward his
spear, he rushes within. During the ensuing scene a
great tumult arises, with mingled shouts of anger,
contempt and dismay. Penelope, standing on the steps
and looking through the doors, reports to the Maidens
the scene within the Banquet Hall, the Maidens ex-
pressing in pantomime their emotions.

CHORUS

The Slaughter of the Suitors
penelope

In shining mail

That his cloak had concealed,

Our lord standeth grim,

A god in seeming,

Apollo divine!

110 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

The suitors quail;
At their foe revealed;
Their senses swim;
Each stareth, as dreaming,
O'ercome with wine.

MAIDENS

lo, eleleu!

On the startled view

Of the suitors supine,

Odysseus, gleaming

In armor, doth shine.

A deity dread are they deeming

The man whom as beggar they knew.

Eleleu!

PENELOPE

Antinoiis tall

To his lips hath uplift

A brimming chalice,

Twy-eared, of gold

Richly enwrought.

He doth not recall

His fateful gift

To the beggar in malice,

Nor the answer bold —

Far from his thought

Is death, I trow.

MAIDENS

E'ia, to!

The hoof of horn

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 111

Hurled in scorn,
Our lord shall requite
By right and by might,
Repaying the blow with a blow.

PENELOPE

For who would dare,
Think they in their pride,
One man 'gainst a host,
(What worth is the youth?)
Beard princes great
Gathered at board?
For howsoe'er
In his cause he confide,
In his strength he boast,
Or courage, in sooth
He would meet black fate
On the point of the sword!

MAIDENS

Oua, ouai!

When a man doth defy

Singly a horde

Too oft doth he meet

With mortal defeat;

Zeus, save from this fate our dear lord !

PENELOPE

Our lord letteth drive
A bitter shaft

112 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

From his bow good
At Antinoiis smiling
With high-raised head.
His throat it doth rive,
And the wine he hath quaffed
Spurteth out with the blood,
The food defiling
On the table outspread.

MAIDENS

The dart his neck smiteth

As the proud prince doth smile;

The beggar requiteth

The insult vile;

And the haughty lord

Lieth dead on the board

In the hall that his deeds did defile.

PENELOPE

The wooers are raising
A cry of fear;
From their seats high
They leap to their feet,
On each other they call;
Around are they gazing,
For shield and spear,
But none do they spy —
Some servant discreet
Hath hidden them all!

MAIDENS

lo, eleleu!

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 113

The swine-herd true
Their arms hath removed
Out of the hall,
Lest to his lord loved
Harm should befall.

PENELOPE

Flameth each heart

With anger vain.

In impotent fear,

In terror craven,

Our lord they threaten

With utter doom.

''Know, stranger, thy dart

Our leader hath slain,

A prince without peer.

For this shall the raven

Upon thy flesh batten,

The wolf shall thy marrow consume."

MAIDENS

With confidence clear
The menace we hear;
Word breaketh no bone;
The coward alone
At his foeman doth jeer.

PENELOPE

Odysseus high
Uplifteth his head

114 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

Clear his words ring:
"Ye dogs, that did steal
The house within
Whose lord was away,
His goods to waste,
Know, then, it is I,
The man ye thought dead,
Ithaca's king,
Returned, to deal
Vengeance: in sin
Your souls to slay.
Death ye shall taste/ '

MAIDENS

Jo, to!

Death shall they know ;

For our slaughtered kine

And our wasted wine

Their blood shall flow.

Io!

PENELOPE

The suitors turn

To Eurymachus strong

In mute appeal

To quell the foe.

With a bone for his blade

At our lord he leapeth.

But Odysseus stern

A shaft, yard-long,

Pointed with steel,

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 115

Speedeth, and low

The giant is laid.

Death over him creepeth.

MAIDENS

lo, eleleu!

He hath got his due;

The promise made

By the beggar is paid;

Sponged out is the score;

He lieth in gore;

Our lord his word keepeth.

PENELOPE

Careless our lord is!
On him unaware
Amphinomus stealeth
With trencher-knife bright
To strike from the rear.
But the stealthy step heard is
By Telemachus fair.
Quick the lad wheeleth
And the man doth he smite
With bronze-pointed spear.

MAIDENS

lo, io !

Now plainly we know

The son doth inherit

The sire's own spirit —

'Twas Pallas that guided the blow.

110 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

PENELOPE

In terror sore

Like rats in a cage

The suitors are running

Around the wall

Escape to find.

But Eumaeus shrewd

His prudence hath proved:

Barred is the door.

Wild is their rage

At the swineherd's cunning. f

'Neath the tables they crawl,

The benches behind.

Only Phemius good

Sitteth unmoved,

No fear doth he show.

MAIDENS

Ao, ao!

On the minstrel blind

Thy mercy bestow,

Odysseus kind,

By him wert thou ever beloved.

PENELOPE

The blind bard sparing,
His anger fierce
On the suitors wreaking,
Them singly he smiteth.
His arrows long,

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 117

Through the wooden shields tearing,

Their bodies pierce,

Their base hearts seeking.

Thus he requiteth

The shame and the wrong.

Blow hath he rendered for blow!

MAIDENS

lot

Our wrongs hath he righted,
Our shame hath requited,
And given us gladness for wo.

PENELOPE

From his high throne

The minstrel dear

Riseth ; with joy

His face is agleam;

His harp doth he smite,

List, maids, to its tone.

His song ringeth clear:

Our lord come from Troy,

The land to redeem,

The reign restoring of Right!

MAIDENS

lo, eleleu!

The poet true,

In faith that is stronger than sight,

With inward light

118 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS

The end ever knew.

Now let him complete

His broken song,

For sad hearts too sweet

In the evil days long —

Return of the Hero whose feet

Shall trample the Serpent of Wrong.

Phemius emerges from within the Banquet Hall,
and, standing on the porch, sings to the accompani-
ment of his harp:

SONG
Astra ha Redux

PHEMIUS

Hail, for thy sweet return

Dear Odysseus, lord!
Glad are the hearts that did yearn,

Ended our eyes' weary ward;

Sorrow is turned into joy,

Darkness is lifted in light;
The years since thou left us for Troy

Are passed as a watch in the night,

A troubled dream ere the dawn,

Yea, as a tale that is told,
Like to a mist have they gone

That morning: has oceanward rolled.

SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 119

With peace let our purposes run,
With justice our freedom make sure,

And gladness that rose with the sun
Shall to his setting endure.

Odysseus in shining armor and Telemaclius emerge
from the Banquet Hall upon the porch of the palace.

He comes with Telemaclius brave,

Victorious over our foe;
Maidens, your palm-branches wave,

Odysseus, oa, iol

MAIDENS

Waving palm-branches, and repeating the former
Dance of Triumph.

Oa, iol

CURTAIN