ULYSSES IN THE HUT WITH EUMAEUS.





Ulysses now left the haven, and took the rough track up through the

wooded country and over the crest of the mountain till he reached the

place where Minerva had said that he would find the swineherd, who was

the most thrifty servant he had. He found him sitting in front of his

hut, which was by the yards that he had built on a site which could be

seen from far. He had made them spacious126 and fair to see, with a

free run for the pigs all round them; he had built them during his

master’s absence, of stones which he had gathered out of the ground,

without saying anything to Penelope or Laertes, and he had fenced them

on top with thorn bushes. Outside the yard he had run a strong fence of

oaken posts, split, and set pretty close together, while inside he had

built twelve styes near one another for the sows to lie in. There were

fifty pigs wallowing in each stye, all of them breeding sows; but the

boars slept outside and were much fewer in number, for the suitors kept

on eating them, and the swineherd had to send them the best he had

continually. There were three hundred and sixty boar pigs, and the

herdsman’s four hounds, which were as fierce as wolves, slept always

with them. The swineherd was at that moment cutting out a pair of

sandals127 from a good stout ox hide. Three of his men were out herding

the pigs in one place or another, and he had sent the fourth to town

with a boar that he had been forced to send the suitors that they might

sacrifice it and have their fill of meat.



When the hounds saw Ulysses they set up a furious barking and flew at

him, but Ulysses was cunning enough to sit down and loose his hold of

the stick that he had in his hand: still, he would have been torn by

them in his own homestead had not the swineherd dropped his ox hide,

rushed full speed through the gate of the yard and driven the dogs off

by shouting and throwing stones at them. Then he said to Ulysses, “Old

man, the dogs were likely to have made short work of you, and then you

would have got me into trouble. The gods have given me quite enough

worries without that, for I have lost the best of masters, and am in

continual grief on his account. I have to attend swine for other people

to eat, while he, if he yet lives to see the light of day, is starving

in some distant land. But come inside, and when you have had your fill

of bread and wine, tell me where you come from, and all about your

misfortunes.”



On this the swineherd led the way into the hut and bade him sit down.

He strewed a good thick bed of rushes upon the floor, and on the top of

this he threw the shaggy chamois skin—a great thick one—on which he

used to sleep by night. Ulysses was pleased at being made thus welcome,

and said “May Jove, sir, and the rest of the gods grant you your

heart’s desire in return for the kind way in which you have received

me.”



To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “Stranger, though a still

poorer man should come here, it would not be right for me to insult

him, for all strangers and beggars are from Jove. You must take what

you can get and be thankful, for servants live in fear when they have

young lords for their masters; and this is my misfortune now, for

heaven has hindered the return of him who would have been always good

to me and given me something of my own—a house, a piece of land, a good

looking wife, and all else that a liberal master allows a servant who

has worked hard for him, and whose labour the gods have prospered as

they have mine in the situation which I hold. If my master had grown

old here he would have done great things by me, but he is gone, and I

wish that Helen’s whole race were utterly destroyed, for she has been

the death of many a good man. It was this matter that took my master to

Ilius, the land of noble steeds, to fight the Trojans in the cause of

king Agamemnon.”



As he spoke he bound his girdle round him and went to the styes where

the young sucking pigs were penned. He picked out two which he brought

back with him and sacrificed. He singed them, cut them up, and spitted

them; when the meat was cooked he brought it all in and set it before

Ulysses, hot and still on the spit, whereon Ulysses sprinkled it over

with white barley meal. The swineherd then mixed wine in a bowl of

ivy-wood, and taking a seat opposite Ulysses told him to begin.



“Fall to, stranger,” said he, “on a dish of servant’s pork. The fat

pigs have to go to the suitors, who eat them up without shame or

scruple; but the blessed gods love not such shameful doings, and

respect those who do what is lawful and right. Even the fierce

freebooters who go raiding on other people’s land, and Jove gives them

their spoil—even they, when they have filled their ships and got home

again live conscience-stricken, and look fearfully for judgement; but

some god seems to have told these people that Ulysses is dead and gone;

they will not, therefore, go back to their own homes and make their

offers of marriage in the usual way, but waste his estate by force,

without fear or stint. Not a day or night comes out of heaven, but they

sacrifice not one victim nor two only, and they take the run of his

wine, for he was exceedingly rich. No other great man either in Ithaca

or on the mainland is as rich as he was; he had as much as twenty men

put together. I will tell you what he had. There are twelve herds of

cattle upon the main land, and as many flocks of sheep, there are also

twelve droves of pigs, while his own men and hired strangers feed him

twelve widely spreading herds of goats. Here in Ithaca he runs even

large flocks of goats on the far end of the island, and they are in the

charge of excellent goat herds. Each one of these sends the suitors the

best goat in the flock every day. As for myself, I am in charge of the

pigs that you see here, and I have to keep picking out the best I have

and sending it to them.”



This was his story, but Ulysses went on eating and drinking ravenously

without a word, brooding his revenge. When he had eaten enough and was

satisfied, the swineherd took the bowl from which he usually drank,

filled it with wine, and gave it to Ulysses, who was pleased, and said

as he took it in his hands, “My friend, who was this master of yours

that bought you and paid for you, so rich and so powerful as you tell

me? You say he perished in the cause of King Agamemnon; tell me who he

was, in case I may have met with such a person. Jove and the other gods

know, but I may be able to give you news of him, for I have travelled

much.”



Eumaeus answered, “Old man, no traveller who comes here with news will

get Ulysses’ wife and son to believe his story. Nevertheless, tramps in

want of a lodging keep coming with their mouths full of lies, and not a

word of truth; every one who finds his way to Ithaca goes to my

mistress and tells her falsehoods, whereon she takes them in, makes

much of them, and asks them all manner of questions, crying all the

time as women will when they have lost their husbands. And you too, old

man, for a shirt and a cloak would doubtless make up a very pretty

story. But the wolves and birds of prey have long since torn Ulysses to

pieces, or the fishes of the sea have eaten him, and his bones are

lying buried deep in sand upon some foreign shore; he is dead and gone,

and a bad business it is for all his friends—for me especially; go

where I may I shall never find so good a master, not even if I were to

go home to my mother and father where I was bred and born. I do not so

much care, however, about my parents now, though I should dearly like

to see them again in my own country; it is the loss of Ulysses that

grieves me most; I cannot speak of him without reverence though he is

here no longer, for he was very fond of me, and took such care of me

that wherever he may be I shall always honour his memory.”



“My friend,” replied Ulysses, “you are very positive, and very hard of

belief about your master’s coming home again, nevertheless I will not

merely say, but will swear, that he is coming. Do not give me anything

for my news till he has actually come, you may then give me a shirt and

cloak of good wear if you will. I am in great want, but I will not take

anything at all till then, for I hate a man, even as I hate hell fire,

who lets his poverty tempt him into lying. I swear by king Jove, by the

rites of hospitality, and by that hearth of Ulysses to which I have now

come, that all will surely happen as I have said it will. Ulysses will

return in this self same year; with the end of this moon and the

beginning of the next he will be here to do vengeance on all those who

are ill treating his wife and son.”



To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “Old man, you will neither

get paid for bringing good news, nor will Ulysses ever come home; drink

your wine in peace, and let us talk about something else. Do not keep

on reminding me of all this; it always pains me when any one speaks

about my honoured master. As for your oath we will let it alone, but I

only wish he may come, as do Penelope, his old father Laertes, and his

son Telemachus. I am terribly unhappy too about this same boy of his;

he was running up fast into manhood, and bade fare to be no worse man,

face and figure, than his father, but some one, either god or man, has

been unsettling his mind, so he has gone off to Pylos to try and get

news of his father, and the suitors are lying in wait for him as he is

coming home, in the hope of leaving the house of Arceisius without a

name in Ithaca. But let us say no more about him, and leave him to be

taken, or else to escape if the son of Saturn holds his hand over him

to protect him. And now, old man, tell me your own story; tell me also,

for I want to know, who you are and where you come from. Tell me of

your town and parents, what manner of ship you came in, how crew

brought you to Ithaca, and from what country they professed to come—for

you cannot have come by land.”



And Ulysses answered, “I will tell you all about it. If there were meat

and wine enough, and we could stay here in the hut with nothing to do

but to eat and drink while the others go to their work, I could easily

talk on for a whole twelve months without ever finishing the story of

the sorrows with which it has pleased heaven to visit me.



“I am by birth a Cretan; my father was a well to do man, who had many

sons born in marriage, whereas I was the son of a slave whom he had

purchased for a concubine; nevertheless, my father Castor son of Hylax

(whose lineage I claim, and who was held in the highest honour among

the Cretans for his wealth, prosperity, and the valour of his sons) put

me on the same level with my brothers who had been born in wedlock.

When, however, death took him to the house of Hades, his sons divided

his estate and cast lots for their shares, but to me they gave a

holding and little else; nevertheless, my valour enabled me to marry

into a rich family, for I was not given to bragging, or shirking on the

field of battle. It is all over now; still, if you look at the straw

you can see what the ear was, for I have had trouble enough and to

spare. Mars and Minerva made me doughty in war; when I had picked my

men to surprise the enemy with an ambuscade I never gave death so much

as a thought, but was the first to leap forward and spear all whom I

could overtake. Such was I in battle, but I did not care about farm

work, nor the frugal home life of those who would bring up children. My

delight was in ships, fighting, javelins, and arrows—things that most

men shudder to think of; but one man likes one thing and another

another, and this was what I was most naturally inclined to. Before the

Achaeans went to Troy, nine times was I in command of men and ships on

foreign service, and I amassed much wealth. I had my pick of the spoil

in the first instance, and much more was allotted to me later on.



“My house grew apace and I became a great man among the Cretans, but

when Jove counselled that terrible expedition, in which so many

perished, the people required me and Idomeneus to lead their ships to

Troy, and there was no way out of it, for they insisted on our doing

so. There we fought for nine whole years, but in the tenth we sacked

the city of Priam and sailed home again as heaven dispersed us. Then it

was that Jove devised evil against me. I spent but one month happily

with my children, wife, and property, and then I conceived the idea of

making a descent on Egypt, so I fitted out a fine fleet and manned it.

I had nine ships, and the people flocked to fill them. For six days I

and my men made feast, and I found them many victims both for sacrifice

to the gods and for themselves, but on the seventh day we went on board

and set sail from Crete with a fair North wind behind us though we were

going down a river. Nothing went ill with any of our ships, and we had

no sickness on board, but sat where we were and let the ships go as the

wind and steersmen took them. On the fifth day we reached the river

Aegyptus; there I stationed my ships in the river, bidding my men stay

by them and keep guard over them while I sent out scouts to reconnoitre

from every point of vantage.



“But the men disobeyed my orders, took to their own devices, and

ravaged the land of the Egyptians, killing the men, and taking their

wives and children captive. The alarm was soon carried to the city, and

when they heard the war cry, the people came out at daybreak till the

plain was filled with horsemen and foot soldiers and with the gleam of

armour. Then Jove spread panic among my men, and they would no longer

face the enemy, for they found themselves surrounded. The Egyptians

killed many of us, and took the rest alive to do forced labour for

them. Jove, however, put it in my mind to do thus—and I wish I had died

then and there in Egypt instead, for there was much sorrow in store for

me—I took off my helmet and shield and dropped my spear from my hand;

then I went straight up to the king’s chariot, clasped his knees and

kissed them, whereon he spared my life, bade me get into his chariot,

and took me weeping to his own home. Many made at me with their ashen

spears and tried to kill me in their fury, but the king protected me,

for he feared the wrath of Jove the protector of strangers, who

punishes those who do evil.



“I stayed there for seven years and got together much money among the

Egyptians, for they all gave me something; but when it was now going on

for eight years there came a certain Phoenician, a cunning rascal, who

had already committed all sorts of villainy, and this man talked me

over into going with him to Phoenicia, where his house and his

possessions lay. I stayed there for a whole twelve months, but at the

end of that time when months and days had gone by till the same season

had come round again, he set me on board a ship bound for Libya, on a

pretence that I was to take a cargo along with him to that place, but

really that he might sell me as a slave and take the money I fetched. I

suspected his intention, but went on board with him, for I could not

help it.



“The ship ran before a fresh North wind till we had reached the sea

that lies between Crete and Libya; there, however, Jove counselled

their destruction, for as soon as we were well out from Crete and could

see nothing but sea and sky, he raised a black cloud over our ship and

the sea grew dark beneath it. Then Jove let fly with his thunderbolts

and the ship went round and round and was filled with fire and

brimstone as the lightning struck it. The men fell all into the sea;

they were carried about in the water round the ship looking like so

many sea-gulls, but the god presently deprived them of all chance of

getting home again. I was all dismayed. Jove, however, sent the ship’s

mast within my reach, which saved my life, for I clung to it, and

drifted before the fury of the gale. Nine days did I drift but in the

darkness of the tenth night a great wave bore me on to the Thesprotian

coast. There Pheidon king of the Thesprotians entertained me hospitably

without charging me anything at all—for his son found me when I was

nearly dead with cold and fatigue, whereon he raised me by the hand,

took me to his father’s house and gave me clothes to wear.



“There it was that I heard news of Ulysses, for the king told me he had

entertained him, and shown him much hospitality while he was on his

homeward journey. He showed me also the treasure of gold, and wrought

iron that Ulysses had got together. There was enough to keep his family

for ten generations, so much had he left in the house of king Pheidon.

But the king said Ulysses had gone to Dodona that he might learn Jove’s

mind from the god’s high oak tree, and know whether after so long an

absence he should return to Ithaca openly, or in secret. Moreover the

king swore in my presence, making drink-offerings in his own house as

he did so, that the ship was by the water side, and the crew found,

that should take him to his own country. He sent me off however before

Ulysses returned, for there happened to be a Thesprotian ship sailing

for the wheat-growing island of Dulichium, and he told those in charge

of her to be sure and take me safely to King Acastus.



“These men hatched a plot against me that would have reduced me to the

very extreme of misery, for when the ship had got some way out from

land they resolved on selling me as a slave. They stripped me of the

shirt and cloak that I was wearing, and gave me instead the tattered

old clouts in which you now see me; then, towards nightfall, they

reached the tilled lands of Ithaca, and there they bound me with a

strong rope fast in the ship, while they went on shore to get supper by

the sea side. But the gods soon undid my bonds for me, and having drawn

my rags over my head I slid down the rudder into the sea, where I

struck out and swam till I was well clear of them, and came ashore near

a thick wood in which I lay concealed. They were very angry at my

having escaped and went searching about for me, till at last they

thought it was no further use and went back to their ship. The gods,

having hidden me thus easily, then took me to a good man’s door—for it

seems that I am not to die yet awhile.”



To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “Poor unhappy stranger, I

have found the story of your misfortunes extremely interesting, but

that part about Ulysses is not right; and you will never get me to

believe it. Why should a man like you go about telling lies in this

way? I know all about the return of my master. The gods one and all of

them detest him, or they would have taken him before Troy, or let him

die with friends around him when the days of his fighting were done;

for then the Achaeans would have built a mound over his ashes and his

son would have been heir to his renown, but now the storm winds have

spirited him away we know not whither.



“As for me I live out of the way here with the pigs, and never go to

the town unless when Penelope sends for me on the arrival of some news

about Ulysses. Then they all sit round and ask questions, both those

who grieve over the king’s absence, and those who rejoice at it because

they can eat up his property without paying for it. For my own part I

have never cared about asking anyone else since the time when I was

taken in by an Aetolian, who had killed a man and come a long way till

at last he reached my station, and I was very kind to him. He said he

had seen Ulysses with Idomeneus among the Cretans, refitting his ships

which had been damaged in a gale. He said Ulysses would return in the

following summer or autumn with his men, and that he would bring back

much wealth. And now you, you unfortunate old man, since fate has

brought you to my door, do not try to flatter me in this way with vain

hopes. It is not for any such reason that I shall treat you kindly, but

only out of respect for Jove the god of hospitality, as fearing him and

pitying you.”



Ulysses answered, “I see that you are of an unbelieving mind; I have

given you my oath, and yet you will not credit me; let us then make a

bargain, and call all the gods in heaven to witness it. If your master

comes home, give me a cloak and shirt of good wear, and send me to

Dulichium where I want to go; but if he does not come as I say he will,

set your men on to me, and tell them to throw me from yonder precipice,

as a warning to tramps not to go about the country telling lies.”



“And a pretty figure I should cut then,” replied Eumaeus, “both now and

hereafter, if I were to kill you after receiving you into my hut and

showing you hospitality. I should have to say my prayers in good

earnest if I did; but it is just supper time and I hope my men will

come in directly, that we may cook something savoury for supper.”



Thus did they converse, and presently the swineherds came up with the

pigs, which were then shut up for the night in their styes, and a

tremendous squealing they made as they were being driven into them. But

Eumaeus called to his men and said, “Bring in the best pig you have,

that I may sacrifice him for this stranger, and we will take toll of

him ourselves. We have had trouble enough this long time feeding pigs,

while others reap the fruit of our labour.”



On this he began chopping firewood, while the others brought in a fine

fat five year old boar pig, and set it at the altar. Eumaeus did not

forget the gods, for he was a man of good principles, so the first

thing he did was to cut bristles from the pig’s face and throw them

into the fire, praying to all the gods as he did so that Ulysses might

return home again. Then he clubbed the pig with a billet of oak which

he had kept back when he was chopping the firewood, and stunned it,

while the others slaughtered and singed it. Then they cut it up, and

Eumaeus began by putting raw pieces from each joint on to some of the

fat; these he sprinkled with barley meal, and laid upon the embers;

they cut the rest of the meat up small, put the pieces upon the spits

and roasted them till they were done; when they had taken them off the

spits they threw them on to the dresser in a heap. The swineherd, who

was a most equitable man, then stood up to give every one his share. He

made seven portions; one of these he set apart for Mercury the son of

Maia and the nymphs, praying to them as he did so; the others he dealt

out to the men man by man. He gave Ulysses some slices cut lengthways

down the loin as a mark of especial honour, and Ulysses was much

pleased. “I hope, Eumaeus,” said he, “that Jove will be as well

disposed towards you as I am, for the respect you are showing to an

outcast like myself.”



To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, “Eat, my good fellow, and

enjoy your supper, such as it is. God grants this, and withholds that,

just as he thinks right, for he can do whatever he chooses.”



As he spoke he cut off the first piece and offered it as a burnt

sacrifice to the immortal gods; then he made them a drink-offering, put

the cup in the hands of Ulysses, and sat down to his own portion.

Mesaulius brought them their bread; the swineherd had brought this man

on his own account from among the Taphians during his master’s absence,

and had paid for him with his own money without saying anything either

to his mistress or Laertes. They then laid their hands upon the good

things that were before them, and when they had had enough to eat and

drink, Mesaulius took away what was left of the bread, and they all

went to bed after having made a hearty supper.



Now the night came on stormy and very dark, for there was no moon. It

poured without ceasing, and the wind blew strong from the West, which

is a wet quarter, so Ulysses thought he would see whether Eumaeus, in

the excellent care he took of him, would take off his own cloak and

give it him, or make one of his men give him one. “Listen to me,” said

he, “Eumaeus and the rest of you; when I have said a prayer I will tell

you something. It is the wine that makes me talk in this way; wine will

make even a wise man fall to singing; it will make him chuckle and

dance and say many a word that he had better leave unspoken; still, as

I have begun, I will go on. Would that I were still young and strong as

when we got up an ambuscade before Troy. Menelaus and Ulysses were the

leaders, but I was in command also, for the other two would have it so.

When we had come up to the wall of the city we crouched down beneath

our armour and lay there under cover of the reeds and thick brushwood

that grew about the swamp. It came on to freeze with a North wind

blowing; the snow fell small and fine like hoar frost, and our shields

were coated thick with rime. The others had all got cloaks and shirts,

and slept comfortably enough with their shields about their shoulders,

but I had carelessly left my cloak behind me, not thinking that I

should be too cold, and had gone off in nothing but my shirt and

shield. When the night was two-thirds through and the stars had shifted

their places, I nudged Ulysses who was close to me with my elbow, and

he at once gave me his ear.



“‘Ulysses,’ said I, ‘this cold will be the death of me, for I have no

cloak; some god fooled me into setting off with nothing on but my

shirt, and I do not know what to do.’



“Ulysses, who was as crafty as he was valiant, hit upon the following

plan:



“‘Keep still,’ said he in a low voice, ‘or the others will hear you.’

Then he raised his head on his elbow.



“‘My friends,’ said he, ‘I have had a dream from heaven in my sleep. We

are a long way from the ships; I wish some one would go down and tell

Agamemnon to send us up more men at once.’



“On this Thoas son of Andraemon threw off his cloak and set out running

to the ships, whereon I took the cloak and lay in it comfortably enough

till morning. Would that I were still young and strong as I was in

those days, for then some one of you swineherds would give me a cloak

both out of good will and for the respect due to a brave soldier; but

now people look down upon me because my clothes are shabby.”



And Eumaeus answered, “Old man, you have told us an excellent story,

and have said nothing so far but what is quite satisfactory; for the

present, therefore, you shall want neither clothing nor anything else

that a stranger in distress may reasonably expect, but to-morrow

morning you have to shake your own old rags about your body again, for

we have not many spare cloaks nor shirts up here, but every man has

only one. When Ulysses’ son comes home again he will give you both

cloak and shirt, and send you wherever you may want to go.”



With this he got up and made a bed for Ulysses by throwing some

goatskins and sheepskins on the ground in front of the fire. Here

Ulysses lay down, and Eumaeus covered him over with a great heavy cloak

that he kept for a change in case of extraordinarily bad weather.



Thus did Ulysses sleep, and the young men slept beside him. But the

swineherd did not like sleeping away from his pigs, so he got ready to

go outside, and Ulysses was glad to see that he looked after his

property during his master’s absence. First he slung his sword over his

brawny shoulders and put on a thick cloak to keep out the wind. He also

took the skin of a large and well fed goat, and a javelin in case of

attack from men or dogs. Thus equipped he went to his rest where the

pigs were camping under an overhanging rock that gave them shelter from

the North wind.