Book XIX · Tokens of Trust · Scene 1 of 2
Penelope quizzes him on the cloak, convinced
25“Now, stranger, let me prove you, if in truth
You did receive, as you have just declared,
In your abode, my husband and his train
Of noble friends. Describe the garb he wore;
How looked he, and the friends he brought with him?”
26Odysseus, the sagacious, answered her:
“O lady, hard it is to answer you,
So long have I been far away from home.
It is now the twentieth year since he was there
And left the isle, but, as my memory bids,
So will I speak. A fleecy purple cloak
Odysseus wore, a double web; the clasp
Was golden, with two fastenings, and in front
It showed a work of rare design —a hound
That held in his forepaws a spotted fawn,
Struggling before his open mouth. Although
The figures were of gold, we all admired
The hound intent to break his victim’s neck,
The fawn that, writhing, plied her nimble feet
To free herself. Around the hero’s chest
And waist I saw a lustrous tunic worn,
Soft, like the thin film of the onion dried,
And bright as sunshine; many ladies looked
With wonder on it. Yet consider this;
I know not whether thus attired he left
His home, or whether, in the voyage thence,
Some comrade gave the garments, or perhaps
Some friendly host, for he was very dear
To many; among the Greeks were few like him.
I gave him, from myself, a brazen sword,
And a fair purple cloak, a double web,
Besides a tunic reaching to his feet,
And with due honors sent him on his way
In his good ship. There came and went with him
A herald somewhat older than himself;
Let me portray him —hunchbacked, swarthy skinned,
And curly haired, Eurybates his name.
Odysseus honored him above the rest
Of his companions, for they thought alike.”
27He ceased; the queen was moved to deeper grief,
For she remembered all the tokens well
Of which he spoke; and when that passionate gust
Of weeping ceased, she spoke again and said: —
28“Stranger, till now your presence in these halls
Has only moved my pity; you henceforth
Are dear and honored. It was I who gave
The garments you have told me of; these hands
Folded them in my chamber. I put on
The glittering clasp to be his ornament,
And now I never shall behold him more
Returning to his own dear land and home;
So cruel was the fate that took him hence
To Ilium, in his roomy ship, a town
Of evil omen never to be named.”
29Odysseus, the sagacious, answered thus:
“O gracious consort of Laertes’ son!
Let not your grief for him whom you have lost
Wither your beauty longer, and consume
Your heart. And yet I blame you not at all;
For any wife in losing him to whom
She gave herself while yet a maid, and bore
Children, will mourn him, though he be in worth
Below Odysseus, who, as fame declares,
Is like the gods. But cease to grieve, and hear
What I shall say, and I shall speak the truth,
Nor will I hide from you that I have heard,
But lately from Odysseus, yet alive,
And journeying homeward, in the opulent realm
Of the Thesprotians, whence he brings with him
Much and rare treasure, gathered there among
The people. His beloved friends he lost,
And his good ship; the black deep swallowed them
In coming from Thrinacia, for his crew
Had slaughtered there the oxen of Helios.
Helios and Zeus were angry; therefore all
His comrades perished in the billowy sea;
But him upon his galley’s keel the wind
Drove to the coast where the Phaeacians dwell,
The kinsmen of the gods. They welcomed him,
And honored him as if he were a god,
And gave him many things, and would have sent
The hero safely to his native isle;
And here Odysseus would have been long since,
But that he deemed it wise to travel far,
And gather wealth —for well Odysseus knew,
Beyond all other men, the arts of gain,
And none in these could think to rival him;
So Pheidon, king of the Thesprotians said,
Who also, in his palace, swore to me —
As to the gods of heaven he poured the wine —
That even then a galley was drawn down
Into the water, and already manned
With rowers, who should take Odysseus home.
But me he first dismissed, for at the time
A barque of the Thesprotians left the port,
Bound for Dulichium’s cornfields. Ere I went
He showed the treasures of Odysseus stored
In the king’s palace —treasures that might serve
To feed the household of another chief
To the tenth generation. He who owned
That wealth was at Dodona, so the king
Declared, inquiring, at the lofty oak
Of Zeus, the counsel of the god
How to return to his dear native land,
So long a wanderer —whether openly
Or else by stealth. So he is safe, and soon
Will he be nearer to us; for not long
Can he remain away from all his friends
And fatherland. To this I plight my oath;
Let Zeus, the greatest and the best of gods,
Be witness, and this hearth of the good prince
Odysseus, where I sit, that every word
Which I have said to you will be fulfilled.
Within the year Odysseus will return,
As this month passes and the next comes in.”
Homer, The Odyssey, translated by William Cullen Bryant, 1871. Public domain.