THE FIGHT WITH IRUS—ULYSSES WARNS AMPHINOMUS—PENELOPE GETS PRESENTS

FROM THE SUITORS—THE BRAZIERS—ULYSSES REBUKES EURYMACHUS.





Now there came a certain common tramp who used to go begging all over

the city of Ithaca, and was notorious as an incorrigible glutton and

drunkard. This man had no strength nor stay in him, but he was a great

hulking fellow to look at; his real name, the one his mother gave him,

was Arnaeus, but the young men of the place called him Irus,148 because

he used to run errands for any one who would send him. As soon as he

came he began to insult Ulysses, and to try and drive him out of his

own house.



“Be off, old man,” he cried, “from the doorway, or you shall be dragged

out neck and heels. Do you not see that they are all giving me the

wink, and wanting me to turn you out by force, only I do not like to do

so? Get up then, and go of yourself, or we shall come to blows.”



Ulysses frowned on him and said, “My friend, I do you no manner of

harm; people give you a great deal, but I am not jealous. There is room

enough in this doorway for the pair of us, and you need not grudge me

things that are not yours to give. You seem to be just such another

tramp as myself, but perhaps the gods will give us better luck by and

by. Do not, however, talk too much about fighting or you will incense

me, and old though I am, I shall cover your mouth and chest with blood.

I shall have more peace tomorrow if I do, for you will not come to the

house of Ulysses any more.”



Irus was very angry and answered, “You filthy glutton, you run on

trippingly like an old fish-fag. I have a good mind to lay both hands

about you, and knock your teeth out of your head like so many boar’s

tusks. Get ready, therefore, and let these people here stand by and

look on. You will never be able to fight one who is so much younger

than yourself.”



Thus roundly did they rate one another on the smooth pavement in front

of the doorway,149 and when Antinous saw what was going on he laughed

heartily and said to the others, “This is the finest sport that you

ever saw; heaven never yet sent anything like it into this house. The

stranger and Irus have quarreled and are going to fight, let us set

them on to do so at once.”



The suitors all came up laughing, and gathered round the two ragged

tramps. “Listen to me,” said Antinous, “there are some goats’ paunches

down at the fire, which we have filled with blood and fat, and set

aside for supper; he who is victorious and proves himself to be the

better man shall have his pick of the lot; he shall be free of our

table and we will not allow any other beggar about the house at all.”



The others all agreed, but Ulysses, to throw them off the scent, said,

“Sirs, an old man like myself, worn out with suffering, cannot hold his

own against a young one; but my irrepressible belly urges me on, though

I know it can only end in my getting a drubbing. You must swear,

however that none of you will give me a foul blow to favour Irus and

secure him the victory.”



They swore as he told them, and when they had completed their oath

Telemachus put in a word and said, “Stranger, if you have a mind to

settle with this fellow, you need not be afraid of any one here.

Whoever strikes you will have to fight more than one. I am host, and

the other chiefs, Antinous and Eurymachus, both of them men of

understanding, are of the same mind as I am.”



Every one assented, and Ulysses girded his old rags about his loins,

thus baring his stalwart thighs, his broad chest and shoulders, and his

mighty arms; but Minerva came up to him and made his limbs even

stronger still. The suitors were beyond measure astonished, and one

would turn towards his neighbour saying, “The stranger has brought such

a thigh out of his old rags that there will soon be nothing left of

Irus.”



Irus began to be very uneasy as he heard them, but the servants girded

him by force, and brought him [into the open part of the court] in such

a fright that his limbs were all of a tremble. Antinous scolded him and

said, “You swaggering bully, you ought never to have been born at all

if you are afraid of such an old broken down creature as this tramp is.

I say, therefore—and it shall surely be—if he beats you and proves

himself the better man, I shall pack you off on board ship to the

mainland and send you to king Echetus, who kills every one that comes

near him. He will cut off your nose and ears, and draw out your

entrails for the dogs to eat.”



This frightened Irus still more, but they brought him into the middle

of the court, and the two men raised their hands to fight. Then Ulysses

considered whether he should let drive so hard at him as to make an end

of him then and there, or whether he should give him a lighter blow

that should only knock him down; in the end he deemed it best to give

the lighter blow for fear the Achaeans should begin to suspect who he

was. Then they began to fight, and Irus hit Ulysses on the right

shoulder; but Ulysses gave Irus a blow on the neck under the ear that

broke in the bones of his skull, and the blood came gushing out of his

mouth; he fell groaning in the dust, gnashing his teeth and kicking on

the ground, but the suitors threw up their hands and nearly died of

laughter, as Ulysses caught hold of him by the foot and dragged him

into the outer court as far as the gate-house. There he propped him up

against the wall and put his staff in his hands. “Sit here,” said he,

“and keep the dogs and pigs off; you are a pitiful creature, and if you

try to make yourself king of the beggars any more you shall fare still

worse.”



Then he threw his dirty old wallet, all tattered and torn over his

shoulder with the cord by which it hung, and went back to sit down upon

the threshold; but the suitors went within the cloisters, laughing and

saluting him, “May Jove, and all the other gods,” said they, “grant you

whatever you want for having put an end to the importunity of this

insatiable tramp. We will take him over to the mainland presently, to

king Echetus, who kills every one that comes near him.”



Ulysses hailed this as of good omen, and Antinous set a great goat’s

paunch before him filled with blood and fat. Amphinomus took two loaves

out of the bread-basket and brought them to him, pledging him as he did

so in a golden goblet of wine. “Good luck to you,” he said, “father

stranger, you are very badly off at present, but I hope you will have

better times by and by.”



To this Ulysses answered, “Amphinomus, you seem to be a man of good

understanding, as indeed you may well be, seeing whose son you are. I

have heard your father well spoken of; he is Nisus of Dulichium, a man

both brave and wealthy. They tell me you are his son, and you appear to

be a considerable person; listen, therefore, and take heed to what I am

saying. Man is the vainest of all creatures that have their being upon

earth. As long as heaven vouchsafes him health and strength, he thinks

that he shall come to no harm hereafter, and even when the blessed gods

bring sorrow upon him, he bears it as he needs must, and makes the best

of it; for God almighty gives men their daily minds day by day. I know

all about it, for I was a rich man once, and did much wrong in the

stubbornness of my pride, and in the confidence that my father and my

brothers would support me; therefore let a man fear God in all things

always, and take the good that heaven may see fit to send him without

vain glory. Consider the infamy of what these suitors are doing; see

how they are wasting the estate, and doing dishonour to the wife, of

one who is certain to return some day, and that, too, not long hence.

Nay, he will be here soon; may heaven send you home quietly first that

you may not meet with him in the day of his coming, for once he is here

the suitors and he will not part bloodlessly.”



With these words he made a drink-offering, and when he had drunk he put

the gold cup again into the hands of Amphinomus, who walked away

serious and bowing his head, for he foreboded evil. But even so he did

not escape destruction, for Minerva had doomed him to fall by the hand

of Telemachus. So he took his seat again at the place from which he had

come.



Then Minerva put it into the mind of Penelope to show herself to the

suitors, that she might make them still more enamoured of her, and win

still further honour from her son and husband. So she feigned a mocking

laugh and said, “Eurynome, I have changed my mind, and have a fancy to

show myself to the suitors although I detest them. I should like also

to give my son a hint that he had better not have anything more to do

with them. They speak fairly enough but they mean mischief.”



“My dear child,” answered Eurynome, “all that you have said is true, go

and tell your son about it, but first wash yourself and anoint your

face. Do not go about with your cheeks all covered with tears; it is

not right that you should grieve so incessantly; for Telemachus, whom

you always prayed that you might live to see with a beard, is already

grown up.”



“I know, Eurynome,” replied Penelope, “that you mean well, but do not

try and persuade me to wash and to anoint myself, for heaven robbed me

of all my beauty on the day my husband sailed; nevertheless, tell

Autonoe and Hippodamia that I want them. They must be with me when I am

in the cloister; I am not going among the men alone; it would not be

proper for me to do so.”



On this the old woman150 went out of the room to bid the maids go to

their mistress. In the meantime Minerva bethought her of another

matter, and sent Penelope off into a sweet slumber; so she lay down on

her couch and her limbs became heavy with sleep. Then the goddess shed

grace and beauty over her that all the Achaeans might admire her. She

washed her face with the ambrosial loveliness that Venus wears when she

goes dancing with the Graces; she made her taller and of a more

commanding figure, while as for her complexion it was whiter than sawn

ivory. When Minerva had done all this she went away, whereon the maids

came in from the women’s room and woke Penelope with the sound of their

talking.



“What an exquisitely delicious sleep I have been having,” said she, as

she passed her hands over her face, “in spite of all my misery. I wish

Diana would let me die so sweetly now at this very moment, that I might

no longer waste in despair for the loss of my dear husband, who

possessed every kind of good quality and was the most distinguished man

among the Achaeans.”



With these words she came down from her upper room, not alone but

attended by two of her maidens, and when she reached the suitors she

stood by one of the bearing-posts supporting the roof of the cloister,

holding a veil before her face, and with a staid maid servant on either

side of her. As they beheld her the suitors were so overpowered and

became so desperately enamoured of her, that each one prayed he might

win her for his own bed fellow.



“Telemachus,” said she, addressing her son, “I fear you are no longer

so discreet and well conducted as you used to be. When you were younger

you had a greater sense of propriety; now, however, that you are grown

up, though a stranger to look at you would take you for the son of a

well to do father as far as size and good looks go, your conduct is by

no means what it should be. What is all this disturbance that has been

going on, and how came you to allow a stranger to be so disgracefully

ill-treated? What would have happened if he had suffered serious injury

while a suppliant in our house? Surely this would have been very

discreditable to you.”



“I am not surprised, my dear mother, at your displeasure,” replied

Telemachus, “I understand all about it and know when things are not as

they should be, which I could not do when I was younger; I cannot,

however, behave with perfect propriety at all times. First one and then

another of these wicked people here keeps driving me out of my mind,

and I have no one to stand by me. After all, however, this fight

between Irus and the stranger did not turn out as the suitors meant it

to do, for the stranger got the best of it. I wish Father Jove,

Minerva, and Apollo would break the neck of every one of these wooers

of yours, some inside the house and some out; and I wish they might all

be as limp as Irus is over yonder in the gate of the outer court. See

how he nods his head like a drunken man; he has had such a thrashing

that he cannot stand on his feet nor get back to his home, wherever

that may be, for he has no strength left in him.”



Thus did they converse. Eurymachus then came up and said, “Queen

Penelope, daughter of Icarius, if all the Achaeans in Iasian Argos

could see you at this moment, you would have still more suitors in your

house by tomorrow morning, for you are the most admirable woman in the

whole world both as regards personal beauty and strength of

understanding.”



To this Penelope replied, “Eurymachus, heaven robbed me of all my

beauty whether of face or figure when the Argives set sail for Troy and

my dear husband with them. If he were to return and look after my

affairs, I should both be more respected and show a better presence to

the world. As it is, I am oppressed with care, and with the afflictions

which heaven has seen fit to heap upon me. My husband foresaw it all,

and when he was leaving home he took my right wrist in his hand—‘Wife,’

he said, ‘we shall not all of us come safe home from Troy, for the

Trojans fight well both with bow and spear. They are excellent also at

fighting from chariots, and nothing decides the issue of a fight sooner

than this. I know not, therefore, whether heaven will send me back to

you, or whether I may not fall over there at Troy. In the meantime do

you look after things here. Take care of my father and mother as at

present, and even more so during my absence, but when you see our son

growing a beard, then marry whom you will, and leave this your present

home.’ This is what he said and now it is all coming true. A night will

come when I shall have to yield myself to a marriage which I detest,

for Jove has taken from me all hope of happiness. This further grief,

moreover, cuts me to the very heart. You suitors are not wooing me

after the custom of my country. When men are courting a woman who they

think will be a good wife to them and who is of noble birth, and when

they are each trying to win her for himself, they usually bring oxen

and sheep to feast the friends of the lady, and they make her

magnificent presents, instead of eating up other people’s property

without paying for it.”



This was what she said, and Ulysses was glad when he heard her trying

to get presents out of the suitors, and flattering them with fair words

which he knew she did not mean.



Then Antinous said, “Queen Penelope, daughter of Icarius, take as many

presents as you please from any one who will give them to you; it is

not well to refuse a present; but we will not go about our business nor

stir from where we are, till you have married the best man among us

whoever he may be.”



The others applauded what Antinous had said, and each one sent his

servant to bring his present. Antinous’s man returned with a large and

lovely dress most exquisitely embroidered. It had twelve beautifully

made brooch pins of pure gold with which to fasten it. Eurymachus

immediately brought her a magnificent chain of gold and amber beads

that gleamed like sunlight. Eurydamas’s two men returned with some

earrings fashioned into three brilliant pendants which glistened most

beautifully; while king Pisander son of Polyctor gave her a necklace of

the rarest workmanship, and every one else brought her a beautiful

present of some kind.



Then the queen went back to her room upstairs, and her maids brought

the presents after her. Meanwhile the suitors took to singing and

dancing, and stayed till evening came. They danced and sang till it

grew dark; they then brought in three braziers151 to give light, and

piled them up with chopped firewood very old and dry, and they lit

torches from them, which the maids held up turn and turn about. Then

Ulysses said:



“Maids, servants of Ulysses who has so long been absent, go to the

queen inside the house; sit with her and amuse her, or spin, and pick

wool. I will hold the light for all these people. They may stay till

morning, but shall not beat me, for I can stand a great deal.”



The maids looked at one another and laughed, while pretty Melantho

began to gibe at him contemptuously. She was daughter to Dolius, but

had been brought up by Penelope, who used to give her toys to play

with, and looked after her when she was a child; but in spite of all

this she showed no consideration for the sorrows of her mistress, and

used to misconduct herself with Eurymachus, with whom she was in love.



“Poor wretch,” said she, “are you gone clean out of your mind? Go and

sleep in some smithy, or place of public gossips, instead of chattering

here. Are you not ashamed of opening your mouth before your betters—so

many of them too? Has the wine been getting into your head, or do you

always babble in this way? You seem to have lost your wits because you

beat the tramp Irus; take care that a better man than he does not come

and cudgel you about the head till he pack you bleeding out of the

house.”



“Vixen,” replied Ulysses, scowling at her, “I will go and tell

Telemachus what you have been saying, and he will have you torn limb

from limb.”



With these words he scared the women, and they went off into the body

of the house. They trembled all over, for they thought he would do as

he said. But Ulysses took his stand near the burning braziers, holding

up torches and looking at the people—brooding the while on things that

should surely come to pass.



But Minerva would not let the suitors for one moment cease their

insolence, for she wanted Ulysses to become even more bitter against

them; she therefore set Eurymachus son of Polybus on to gibe at him,

which made the others laugh. “Listen to me,” said he, “you suitors of

Queen Penelope, that I may speak even as I am minded. It is not for

nothing that this man has come to the house of Ulysses; I believe the

light has not been coming from the torches, but from his own head—for

his hair is all gone, every bit of it.”



Then turning to Ulysses he said, “Stranger, will you work as a servant,

if I send you to the wolds and see that you are well paid? Can you

build a stone fence, or plant trees? I will have you fed all the year

round, and will find you in shoes and clothing. Will you go, then? Not

you; for you have got into bad ways, and do not want to work; you had

rather fill your belly by going round the country begging.”



“Eurymachus,” answered Ulysses, “if you and I were to work one against

the other in early summer when the days are at their longest—give me a

good scythe, and take another yourself, and let us see which will last

the longer or mow the stronger, from dawn till dark when the mowing

grass is about. Or if you will plough against me, let us each take a

yoke of tawny oxen, well-mated and of great strength and endurance:

turn me into a four acre field, and see whether you or I can drive the

straighter furrow. If, again, war were to break out this day, give me a

shield, a couple of spears and a helmet fitting well upon my

temples—you would find me foremost in the fray, and would cease your

gibes about my belly. You are insolent and cruel, and think yourself a

great man because you live in a little world, and that a bad one. If

Ulysses comes to his own again, the doors of his house are wide, but

you will find them narrow when you try to fly through them.”



Eurymachus was furious at all this. He scowled at him and cried, “You

wretch, I will soon pay you out for daring to say such things to me,

and in public too. Has the wine been getting into your head or do you

always babble in this way? You seem to have lost your wits because you

beat the tramp Irus.” With this he caught hold of a footstool, but

Ulysses sought protection at the knees of Amphinomus of Dulichium, for

he was afraid. The stool hit the cupbearer on his right hand and

knocked him down: the man fell with a cry flat on his back, and his

wine-jug fell ringing to the ground. The suitors in the covered

cloister were now in an uproar, and one would turn towards his

neighbour, saying, “I wish the stranger had gone somewhere else, bad

luck to him, for all the trouble he gives us. We cannot permit such

disturbance about a beggar; if such ill counsels are to prevail we

shall have no more pleasure at our banquet.”



On this Telemachus came forward and said, “Sirs, are you mad? Can you

not carry your meat and your liquor decently? Some evil spirit has

possessed you. I do not wish to drive any of you away, but you have had

your suppers, and the sooner you all go home to bed the better.”



The suitors bit their lips and marvelled at the boldness of his speech;

but Amphinomus the son of Nisus, who was son to Aretias, said, “Do not

let us take offence; it is reasonable, so let us make no answer.

Neither let us do violence to the stranger nor to any of Ulysses’

servants. Let the cupbearer go round with the drink-offerings, that we

may make them and go home to our rest. As for the stranger, let us

leave Telemachus to deal with him, for it is to his house that he has

come.”



Thus did he speak, and his saying pleased them well, so Mulius of

Dulichium, servant to Amphinomus, mixed them a bowl of wine and water

and handed it round to each of them man by man, whereon they made their

drink-offerings to the blessed gods: Then, when they had made their

drink-offerings and had drunk each one as he was minded, they took

their several ways each of them to his own abode.