Book XXII


The killing of the wooers.

Then Odysseus of many counsels stripped him of his rags and
leaped on to the great threshold with his bow and quiver
full of arrows, and poured forth all the swift shafts there
before his feet, and spake among the wooers:

'Lo, now is this terrible trial ended at last; and now will
I know of another mark, which never yet man has smitten, if
perchance I may hit it and Apollo grant me renown.'

With that he pointed the bitter arrow at Antinous. Now he
was about raising to his lips a fair twy-eared chalice of
gold, and behold, he was handling it to drink of the wine,
and death was far from his thoughts. For who among men at
feast would deem that one man amongst so many, how hardy
soever he were, would bring on him foul death and black
fate? But Odysseus aimed and smote him with the arrow in
the throat, and the point passed clean out through his
delicate neck, and he fell sidelong and the cup dropped
from his hand as he was smitten, and at once through his
nostrils there came up a thick jet of slain man's blood,
and quickly he spurned the table from him with his foot,
and spilt the food on the ground, and the bread and the
roast flesh were defiled. Then the wooers raised a clamour
through the halls when they saw the man fallen, and they
leaped from their high seats, as men stirred by fear, all
through the hall, peering everywhere along the well-builded
walls, and nowhere was there a shield or mighty spear to
lay hold on. Then they reviled Odysseus with angry words:

'Stranger, thou shootest at men to thy hurt. Never again
shalt thou enter other lists, now is utter doom assured
thee. Yea, for now hast thou slain the man that was far the
best of all the noble youths in Ithaca; wherefore vultures
shall devour thee here.'

So each one spake, for indeed they thought that Odysseus
had not slain him wilfully; but they knew not in their
folly that on their own heads, each and all of them, the
bands of death had been made fast. Then Odysseus of many
counsels looked fiercely on them, and spake:

'Ye dogs, ye said in your hearts that I should never more
come home from the land of the Trojans, in that ye wasted
my house, and lay with the maidservants by force, and
traitorously wooed my wife while I was yet alive, and ye
had no fear of the gods, that hold the wide heaven, nor of
the indignation of men hereafter. But now the bands of
death have been made fast upon you one and all.'

Even so he spake, and pale fear gat hold on the limbs of
all, and each man looked about, where he might shun utter
doom. And Eurymachus alone answered him, and spake: 'If
thou art indeed Odysseus of Ithaca, come home again, with
right thou speakest thus, of all that the Achaeans have
wrought, many infatuate deeds in thy halls and many in the
field. Howbeit, he now lies dead that is to blame for all,
Antinous; for he brought all these things upon us, not as
longing very greatly for the marriage nor needing it sore,
but with another purpose, that Cronion has not fulfilled
for him, namely, that he might himself be king over all the
land of stablished Ithaca, and he was to have lain in wait
for thy son and killed him. But now he is slain after his
deserving, and do thou spare thy people, even thine own;
and we will hereafter go about the township and yield thee
amends for all that has been eaten and drunken in thy
halls, each for himself bringing atonement of twenty oxen
worth, and requiting thee in gold and bronze till thy heart
is softened, but till then none may blame thee that thou
art angry.'

Then Odysseus of many counsels looked fiercely on him, and
said: 'Eurymachus, not even if ye gave me all your
heritage, all that ye now have, and whatsoever else ye
might in any wise add thereto, not even so would I
henceforth hold my hands from slaying, ere the wooers had
paid for all their transgressions. And now the choice lies
before you, whether to fight in fair battle or to fly, if
any may avoid death and the fates. But there be some,
methinks, that shall not escape from utter doom.'

He spake, and their knees were straightway loosened and
their hearts melted within them. And Eurymachus spake among
them yet again:

'Friends, it is plain that this man will not hold his
unconquerable hands, but now that he has caught up the
polished bow and quiver, he will shoot from the smooth
threshold, till he has slain us all; wherefore let us take
thought for the delight of battle. Draw your blades, and
hold up the tables to ward off the arrows of swift death,
and let us all have at him with one accord, and drive him,
if it may be, from the threshold and the doorway and then
go through the city, and quickly would the cry be raised.
Thereby should this man soon have shot his latest bolt.'

Therewith he drew his sharp two-edged sword of bronze, and
leapt on Odysseus with a terrible cry, but in the same
moment goodly Odysseus shot the arrow forth and struck him
on the breast by the pap, and drave the swift shaft into
his liver. So he let the sword fall from his hand, and
grovelling over the table he bowed and fell, and spilt the
food and the two-handled cup on the floor. And in his agony
he smote the ground with his brow, and spurning with both
his feet he overthrew the high seat, and the mist of death
was shed upon his eyes.

Then Amphinomus made at renowned Odysseus, setting straight
at him, and drew his sharp sword, if perchance he might
make him give ground from the door. But Telemachus was
beforehand with him, and cast and smote him from behind
with a bronze-shod spear between the shoulders, and drave
it out through the breast, and he fell with a crash and
struck the ground full with his forehead. Then Telemachus
sprang away, leaving the long spear fixed in Amphinomus,
for he greatly dreaded lest one of the Achaeans might run
upon him with his blade, and stab him as he drew forth the
spear, or smite him with a down stroke {*} of the sword. So
he started and ran and came quickly to his father, and
stood by him, and spake winged words:

{* Or, reading [Greek], smite him as he stooped over the
corpse.}

'Father, lo, now I will bring thee a shield and two spears
and a helmet all of bronze, close fitting on the temples,
and when I return I will arm myself, and likewise give arms
to the swineherd and to the neatherd yonder: for it is
better to be clad in full armour.'

And Odysseus of many counsels answered him saying: 'Run and
bring them while I have arrows to defend me, lest they
thrust me from the doorway, one man against them all.'

So he spake, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father, and
went forth to the chamber, where his famous weapons were
lying. Thence he took out four shields and eight spears,
and four helmets of bronze, with thick plumes of horse
hair, and he started to bring them and came quickly to his
father. Now he girded the gear of bronze about his own body
first, and in like manner the two thralls did on the goodly
armour, and stood beside the wise and crafty Odysseus. Now
he, so long as he had arrows to defend him, kept aiming and
smote the wooers one by one in his house, and they fell
thick one upon another. But when the arrows failed the
prince in his archery, he leaned his bow against the
doorpost of the stablished hall, against the shining faces
of the entrance. As for him he girt his fourfold shield
about his shoulders and bound on his mighty head a well
wrought helmet, with horse hair crest, and terribly the
plume waved aloft. And he grasped two mighty spears tipped
with bronze.

Now there was in the well-builded wall a certain postern
raised above the floor, and there by the topmost level of
the threshold of the stablished hall, was a way into an
open passage, closed by well-fitted folding doors. So
Odysseus bade the goodly swineherd stand near thereto and
watch the way, for thither there was but one approach. Then
Agelaus spake among them, and declared his word to all:

'Friends, will not some man climb up to the postern, and
give word to the people, and a cry would be raised
straightway; so should this man soon have shot his latest
bolt?'

Then Melanthius, the goatherd, answered him, saying: 'It
may in no wise be, prince Agelaus; for the fair gate of the
courtyard is terribly nigh, and perilous is the entrance to
the passage, and one man, if he were valiant, might keep
back a host. But come, let me bring you armour from the
inner chamber, that ye may be clad in hauberks, for,
methinks, within that room and not elsewhere did Odysseus
and his renowned son lay by the arms.'

Therewith Melanthius, the goatherd, climbed up by the
clerestory of the hall to the inner chambers of Odysseus,
whence he took twelve shields and as many spears, and as
many helmets of bronze with thick plumes of horse hair, and
he came forth and brought them speedily, and gave them to
the wooers. Then the knees of Odysseus were loosened and
his heart melted within him, when he saw them girding on
the armour and brandishing the long spears in their hands,
and great, he saw, was the adventure. Quickly he spake to
Telemachus winged words:

'Telemachus, sure I am that one of the women in the halls
is stirring up an evil battle against us, or perchance it
is Melanthius.'

Then wise Telemachus answered him: 'My father, it is I that
have erred herein and none other is to blame, for I left
the well-fitted door of the chamber open, and there has
been one of them but too quick to spy it. Go now, goodly
Eumaeus, and close the door of the chamber, and mark if it
be indeed one of the women that does this mischief, or
Melanthius, son of Dolius, as methinks it is.'

Even so they spake one to the other. And Melanthius, the
goatherd, went yet again to the chamber to bring the fair
armour. But the goodly swineherd was ware thereof, and
quickly he spake to Odysseus who stood nigh him:

'Son of Laertes, of the seed of Zeus, Odysseus, of many
devices, lo, there again is that baleful man, whom we
ourselves suspect, going to the chamber; do thou tell me
truly, shall I slay him if I prove the better man, or bring
him hither to thee, that he may pay for the many
transgressions that he has devised in thy house?'

Then Odysseus of many counsels answered saying: 'Verily, I
and Telemachus will keep the proud wooers within the halls,
for all their fury, but do ye twain tie his feet and arms
behind his back and cast him into the chamber, and close
the doors after you,{*} and make fast to his body a twisted
rope, and drag him up the lofty pillar till he be near the
roof beams, that he may hang there and live for long, and
suffer grievous torment.'

{* Or, as Mr. Merry suggests in his note, 'tie boards
behind him' as a method of torture. He compares Aristoph.
Thesm. 931,940.}

So he spake, and they gave good heed and hearkened. So they
went forth to the chamber, but the goatherd who was within
knew not of their coming. Now he was seeking for the armour
in the secret place of the chamber, but they twain stood in
waiting on either side the doorposts. And when Melanthius,
the goatherd, was crossing the threshold with a goodly helm
in one hand, and in the other a wide shield and an old,
stained with rust, the shield of the hero Laertes that he
bare when he was young--but at that time it was laid by,
and the seams of the straps were loosened,--then the twain
rushed on him and caught him, and dragged him in by the
hair, and cast him on the floor in sorrowful plight, and
bound him hand and foot in a bitter bond, tightly winding
each limb behind his back, even as the son of Laertes bade
them, the steadfast goodly Odysseus. And they made fast to
his body a twisted rope, and dragged him up the lofty
pillar till he came near the roof beams. Then didst thou
speak to him and gird at him, swineherd Eumaeus:

'Now in good truth, Melanthius, shalt thou watch all night,
lying in a soft bed as beseems thee, nor shall the
early-born Dawn escape thy ken, when she comes forth from
the streams of Oceanus, on her golden throne, in the hour
when thou art wont to drive the goats to make a meal for
the wooers in the halls.'

So he was left there, stretched tight in the deadly bond.
But they twain got into their harness, and closed the
shining door, and went to Odysseus, wise and crafty chief.
There they stood breathing fury, four men by the threshold,
while those others within the halls were many and good
warriors. Then Athene, daughter of Zeus, drew nigh them,
like Mentor in fashion and in voice, and Odysseus was glad
when he saw her and spake, saying:

'Mentor, ward from us hurt, and remember me thy dear
companion, that befriended thee often, and thou art of like
age with me.'

So he spake, deeming the while that it was Athene, summoner
of the host. But the wooers on the other side shouted in
the halls, and first Agelaus son of Damastor rebuked
Athene, saying:

'Mentor, let not the speech of Odysseus beguile thee to
fight against the wooers, and to succour him. For methinks
that on this wise we shall work our will. When we shall
have slain these men, father and son, thereafter shalt thou
perish with them, such deeds thou art set on doing in these
halls; nay, with thine own head shalt thou pay the price.
But when with the sword we shall have overcome your
violence, we will mingle all thy possessions, all that thou
hast at home or in the field, with the wealth of Odysseus,
and we will not suffer thy sons nor thy daughters to dwell
in the halls, nor thy good wife to gad about in the town of
Ithaca.'

So spake he, and Athene was mightily angered at heart, and
chid Odysseus in wrathful words: 'Odysseus, thou hast no
more steadfast might nor any prowess, as when for nine
whole years continually thou didst battle with the Trojans
for high born Helen, of the white arms, and many men thou
slewest in terrible warfare, and by thy device the
wide-wayed city of Priam was taken. How then, now that thou
art come to thy house and thine own possessions, dost thou
bewail thee and art of feeble courage to stand before the
wooers? Nay, come hither, friend, and stand by me, and I
will show thee a thing, that thou mayest know what manner
of man is Mentor, son of Alcimus, to repay good deeds in
the ranks of foemen.'

She spake, and gave him not yet clear victory in full, but
still for a while made trial of the might and prowess of
Odysseus and his renowned son. As for her she flew up to
the roof timber of the murky hall, in such fashion as a
swallow flies, and there sat down.

Now Agelaus, son of Damastor, urged on the wooers, and
likewise Eurynomus and Amphimedon and Demoptolemus and
Peisandrus son of Polyctor, and wise Polybus, for these
were in valiancy far the best men of the wooers, that still
lived and fought for their lives; for the rest had fallen
already beneath the bow and the thick rain of arrows. Then
Agelaus spake among them, and made known his word to all:

'Friends, now at last will this man hold his unconquerable
hands. Lo, now has Mentor left him and spoken but vain
boasts, and these remain alone at the entrance of the
doors. Wherefore now, throw not your long spears all
together, but come, do ye six cast first, if perchance Zeus
may grant us to smite Odysseus and win renown. Of the rest
will we take no heed, so soon as that man shall have
fallen.'

So he spake and they all cast their javelins, as he bade
them, eagerly; but behold, Athene so wrought that they were
all in vain. One man smote the doorpost of the stablished
hall, and another the well-fastened door, and the ashen
spear of yet another wooer, heavy with bronze, stuck fast
in the wall. So when they had avoided all the spears of the
wooers, the steadfast goodly Odysseus began first to speak
among them:

'Friends, now my word is that we too cast and hurl into the
press of the wooers, that are mad to slay and strip us
beyond the measure of their former iniquities.'

So he spake, and they all took good aim and threw their
sharp spears, and Odysseus smote Demoptolemus, and
Telemachus Euryades, and the swineherd slew Elatus, and the
neatherd Peisandrus. Thus they all bit the wide floor with
their teeth, and the wooers fell back into the inmost part
of the hall. But the others dashed upon them and drew forth
the shafts from the bodies of the dead.

Then once more the wooers threw their sharp spears eagerly;
but behold, Athene so wrought that many of them were in
vain. One man smote the door-post of the stablished hall,
and another the well-fastened door, and the ashen spear of
another wooer, heavy with bronze, struck in the wall. Yet
Amphimedon hit Telemachus on the hand by the wrist lightly,
and the shaft of bronze wounded the surface of the skin.
And Ctesippus grazed the shoulder of Eumaeus with a long
spear high above the shield, and the spear flew over and
fell to the ground. Then again Odysseus, the wise and
crafty, he and his men cast their swift spears into the
press of the wooers, and now once more Odysseus, waster of
cities, smote Eurydamas, and Telemachus Amphimedon, and the
swineherd slew Polybus, and last, the neatherd struck
Ctesippus in the breast and boasted over him, saying:

'O son of Polytherses, thou lover of jeering, never give
place at all to folly to speak so big, but leave thy case
to the gods, since in truth they are far mightier than
thou. This gift is thy recompense for the ox-foot that thou
gavest of late to the divine Odysseus, when he went begging
through the house.'

So spake the keeper of the shambling kine. Next Odysseus
wounded the son of Damastor in close fight with his long
spear, and Telemachus wounded Leocritus son of Euenor,
right in the flank with his lance, and drave the bronze
point clean through, that he fell prone and struck the
ground full with his forehead. Then Athene held up her
destroying aegis on high from the roof, and their minds
were scared, and they fled through the hall, like a drove
of kine that the flitting gadfly falls upon and scatters
hither and thither in spring time, when the long days
begin. But the others set on like vultures of crooked claws
and curved beak, that come forth from the mountains and
dash upon smaller birds, and these scour low in the plain,
stooping in terror from the clouds, while the vultures
pounce on them and slay them, and there is no help nor way
of flight, and men are glad at the sport; even so did the
company of Odysseus set upon the wooers and smite them
right and left through the hall; and there rose a hideous
moaning as their heads were smitten, and the floor all ran
with blood.

Now Leiodes took hold of the knees of Odysseus eagerly, and
besought him and spake winged words: 'I entreat thee by thy
knees, Odysseus, and do thou show mercy on me and have
pity. For never yet, I say, have I wronged a maiden in thy
halls by froward word or deed, nay I bade the other wooers
refrain, whoso of them wrought thus. But they hearkened not
unto me to keep their hands from evil. Wherefore they have
met a shameful death through their own infatuate deeds.
Yet I, the soothsayer among them, that have wrought no
evil, shall fall even as they, for no grace abides for good
deeds done.'

Then Odysseus of many counsels looked askance at him, and
said: 'If indeed thou dost avow thee to be the soothsayer
of these men, thou art like to have often prayed in the
halls that the issue of a glad return might be far from me,
and that my dear wife should follow thee and bear thee
children; wherefore thou shalt not escape the bitterness of
death.'

Therewith he caught up a sword in his strong hand, that lay
where Agelaus had let it fall to the ground when he was
slain, and drave it clean through his neck, and as he yet
spake his head fell even to the dust.

But the son of Terpes, the minstrel, still sought how he
might shun black fate, Phemius, who sang among the wooers
of necessity. He stood with the loud lyre in his hand hard
by the postern gate, and his heart was divided within him,
whether he should slip forth from the hall and sit down by
the well-wrought altar of great Zeus of the household
court, whereon Laertes and Odysseus had burnt many pieces
of the thighs of oxen, or should spring forward and beseech
Odysseus by his knees. And as he thought thereupon this
seemed to him the better way, to embrace the knees of
Odysseus, son of Laertes. So he laid the hollow lyre on the
ground between the mixing-bowl and the high seat inlaid
with silver, and himself sprang forward and seized Odysseus
by the knees, and besought him and spake winged words:

'I entreat thee by thy knees, Odysseus, and do thou show
mercy on me and have pity. It will be a sorrow to thyself
in the aftertime if thou slayest me who am a minstrel, and
sing before gods and men. Yea none has taught me but
myself, and the god has put into my heart all manner of
lays, and methinks I sing to thee as to a god, wherefore be
not eager to cut off my head. And Telemachus will testify
of this, thine own dear son, that not by mine own will or
desire did I resort to thy house to sing to the wooers at
their feasts; but being so many and stronger than I they
led me by constraint.'

So he spake, and the mighty prince Telemachus heard him and
quickly spake to his father at his side: 'Hold thy hand,
and wound not this blameless man with the sword; and let us
save also the henchman Medon, that ever had charge of me in
our house when I was a child, unless perchance Philoetius
or the swineherd have already slain him, or he hath met
thee in thy raging through the house.'

So he spake, and Medon, wise of heart, heard him. For he
lay crouching beneath a high seat, clad about in the
new-flayed hide of an ox and shunned black fate. So he rose
up quickly from under the seat, and cast off the ox-hide,
and sprang forth and caught Telemachus by the knees, and
besought him and spake winged words:

'Friend, here am I; prithee stay thy hand and speak to thy
father, lest he harm me with the sharp sword in the
greatness of his strength, out of his anger for the wooers
that wasted his possessions in the halls, and in their
folly held thee in no honour.'

And Odysseus of many counsels smiled on him and said: 'Take
courage, for lo, he has saved thee and delivered thee, that
thou mayst know in thy heart, and tell it even to another,
how far more excellent are good deeds than evil. But go
forth from the halls and sit down in the court apart from
the slaughter, thou and the full-voiced minstrel, till I
have accomplished all that I must needs do in the house.'

Therewith the two went forth and gat them from the hall. So
they sat down by the altar of great Zeus, peering about on
every side, still expecting death. And Odysseus peered all
through the house, to see if any man was yet alive and
hiding away to shun black fate. But he found all the sort
of them fallen in their blood in the dust, like fishes that
the fishermen have drawn forth in the meshes of the net
into a hollow of the beach from out the grey sea, and all
the fish, sore longing for the salt sea waves, are heaped
upon the sand, and the sun shines forth and takes their
life away; so now the wooers lay heaped upon each other.
Then Odysseus of many counsels spake to Telemachus:

'Telemachus, go, call me the nurse Eurycleia, that I may
tell her a word that is on my mind.'

So he spake, and Telemachus obeyed his dear father, and
smote at the door, and spake to the nurse Eurycleia: 'Up
now, aged wife, that overlookest all the women servants in
our halls, come hither, my father calls thee and has
somewhat to say to thee.'

Even so he spake, and wingless her speech remained, and she
opened the doors of the fair-lying halls, and came forth,
and Telemachus led the way before her. So she found
Odysseus among the bodies of the dead, stained with blood
and soil of battle, like a lion that has eaten of an ox of
the homestead and goes on his way, and all his breast and
his cheeks on either side are flecked with blood, and he is
terrible to behold; even so was Odysseus stained, both
hands and feet. Now the nurse, when she saw the bodies of
the dead and the great gore of blood, made ready to cry
aloud for joy, beholding so great an adventure. But
Odysseus checked and held her in her eagerness, and
uttering his voice spake to her winged words:

'Within thine own heart rejoice, old nurse, and be still,
and cry not aloud; for it is an unholy thing to boast over
slain men. Now these hath the destiny of the gods overcome,
and their own cruel deeds, for they honoured none of
earthly men, neither the bad nor yet the good, that came
among them. Wherefore they have met a shameful death
through their own infatuate deeds. But come, tell me the
tale of the women in my halls, which of them dishonour me,
and which be guiltless.'

Then the good nurse Eurycleia answered him: 'Yea now, my
child, I will tell thee all the truth. Thou hast fifty
women-servants in thy halls, that we have taught the ways
of housewifery, how to card wool and to bear bondage. Of
these twelve in all have gone the way of shame, and honour
not me, nor their lady Penelope. And Telemachus hath but
newly come to his strength, and his mother suffered him not
to take command over the women in this house. But now, let
me go aloft to the shining upper chamber, and tell all to
thy wife, on whom some god hath sent a sleep.'

And Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: 'Wake
her not yet, but bid the women come hither, who in time
past behaved themselves unseemly.'

So he spake, and the old wife passed through the hall, to
tell the women and to hasten their coming. Then Odysseus
called to him Telemachus, and the neatherd, and the
swineherd, and spake to them winged words:

'Begin ye now to carry out the dead, and bid the women help
you, and thereafter cleanse the fair high seats and the
tables with water and porous sponges. And when ye have set
all the house in order, lead the maidens without the
stablished hall, between the vaulted room and the goodly
fence of the court, and there slay them with your long
blades, till they shall have all given up the ghost and
forgotten the love that of old they had at the bidding of
the wooers, in secret dalliance.'

Even so he spake, and the women came all in a crowd
together, making a terrible lament and shedding big tears.
So first they carried forth the bodies of the slain, and
set them beneath the gallery of the fenced court, and
propped them one on another; and Odysseus himself hasted
the women and directed them, and they carried forth the
dead perforce. Thereafter they cleansed the fair high seats
and the tables with water and porous sponges. And
Telemachus, and the neatherd, and the swineherd, scraped
with spades the floor of the well-builded house, and,
behold, the maidens carried all forth and laid it without
the doors.

Now when they had made an end of setting the hall in order,
they led the maidens forth from the stablished hall, and
drove them up in a narrow space between the vaulted room
and the goodly fence of the court, whence none might avoid;
and wise Telemachus began to speak to his fellows, saying:
'God forbid that I should take these women's lives by a
clean death, these that have poured dishonour on my head
and on my mother, and have lain with the wooers.'

With that word he tied the cable of a dark-prowed ship to a
great pillar and flung it round the vaulted room, and
fastened it aloft, that none might touch the ground with
her feet. And even as when thrushes, long of wing, or doves
fall into a net that is set in a thicket, as they seek to
their roosting-place, and a loathly bed harbours them, even
so the women held their heads all in a row, and about all
their necks nooses were cast, that they might die by the
most pitiful death. And they writhed with their feet for a
little space, but for no long while.

Then they led out Melanthius through the doorway and the
court, and cut off his nostrils and his ears with the
pitiless sword, and drew forth his vitals for the dogs to
devour raw, and cut off his hands and feet in their cruel
anger.

Thereafter they washed their hands and feet, and went into
the house to Odysseus, and all the adventure was over. So
Odysseus called to the good nurse Eurycleia: 'Bring
sulphur, old nurse, that cleanses all pollution and bring
me fire, that I may purify the house with sulphur, and do
thou bid Penelope come here with her handmaidens, and tell
all the women to hasten into the hall.'

Then the good nurse Eurycleia made answer: 'Yea, my child,
herein thou hast spoken aright. But go to, let me bring
thee a mantle and a doublet for raiment, and stand not thus
in the halls with thy broad shoulders wrapped in rags; it
were blame in thee so to do.'

And Odysseus of many counsels answered her saying: 'First
let a fire now be made me in the hall.'

So he spake, and the good nurse Eurycleia was not slow to
obey, but brought fire and brimstone; and Odysseus
thoroughly purged the women's chamber and the great hall
and the court.

Then the old wife went through the fair halls of Odysseus
to tell the women, and to hasten their coming. So they came
forth from their chamber with torches in their hands, and
fell about Odysseus, and embraced him and kissed and
clasped his head and shoulders and his hands lovingly, and
a sweet longing came on him to weep and moan, for he
remembered them every one.