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BOOK 3 An Old King Remembers

Leaving the Ocean’s  streams,°  the Sun leapt up

into the sky of  bronze,°  to shine his light

for gods and mortals on the fertile earth.

Telemachus arrived in Pylos, where

the Pylians were bringing to the beach

black bulls for blue Poseidon, Lord of Earthquakes.

There were nine pews, five hundred men on each,

and each group had nine bulls to sacrifice.

They burned the thigh-bones for the god, and ate

the innards. Then the Ithacans arrived,

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took down their sails, dropped anchor and alighted.

The goddess with the flashing eyes, Athena,

first led Telemachus onshore, then spoke.

“Do not be shy, Telemachus. You sailed

over the sea to ask about your father,

where the earth hides him, what his fate might be.

So hurry now to Nestor, lord of horses.

Learn what advice he has in mind for you.

Supplicate him yourself, and he will tell you

the truth; he is not one to tell a lie.”

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Telemachus replied, “But Mentor, how

can I approach and talk to him? I am

quite inexperienced at making speeches,

and as a young man, I feel awkward talking

to elders.”

   She looked straight into his eyes,

and answered, “You will work out what to do,

through your own wits and with divine assistance.

The gods have blessed you in your life so far.”

So Pallas spoke and quickly led him on;

he followed in the footsteps of the goddess.

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They reached the center of the town, where Nestor

was sitting with his sons and his companions,

putting the meat on spits and roasting it

for dinner. When they saw the strangers coming,

they all stood up with open arms to greet them,

inviting them to join them. Nestor’s son,

Pisistratus, shook hands and sat them down,

spreading soft fleeces on the sand beside

his father and his brother, Thrasymedes.

He served them giblets and he poured some wine

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into a golden cup, and raised a toast

to Pallas, child of Zeus the Aegis-Lord.

“Now guest, give prayers of thanks to Lord Poseidon,

and pour libations for the god. This feast

is in his honor; pay him proper dues.

Then give the boy the cup of honeyed wine,

so he can offer to the deathless gods

libations. Everybody needs the gods.

I give the golden chalice to you first,

because the boy is younger, more my age.”

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He put the cup of sweet wine in her hand.

Athena was impressed with his good manners,

because he rightly gave it first to her.

At once she made a heartfelt prayer.

     “Poseidon!

O Shaker of the Earth, do not refuse

to grant our prayer; may all these things come true.

Bring fame to Nestor and his sons, and grant

gifts to the Pylians, as recompense

for this fine sacrifice. And may the quest

for which we sailed here in our swift black ship

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succeed, and may we come home safe again.”

She made her prayer come true all by herself.

She gave Telemachus the splendid cup

with double handle, and his prayer matched hers.

And then they cooked the outer parts of meat,

and helped themselves to pieces, sharing round

the glorious feast, till they could eat no more.

Then first Gerenian  Nestor,°  horse-lord, spoke.

“Now that our guests are satisfied with food,

time now to talk to them and ask them questions.

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Strangers, who are you? Where did you sail from?

Are you on business, or just scouting round

like pirates on the sea, who risk their lives

to ravage foreign homes?”

  Telemachus

was thoughtful but not shy. Athena gave him

the confidence deep in his heart to ask

about his absent father, and to gain

a noble reputation for himself.

“Great Nestor, son of Neleus,” he said,

“You ask where I am from. I will be frank.

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I come from Ithaca, beneath Mount Neion:

my business here is personal, not public.

I came to gather news about my father,

long-suffering Odysseus. They say

he fought with you to sack the town of Troy.

We know the place where all the other men

who battled with the Trojans lost their lives.

But Zeus still keeps Odysseus’ fate

in darkness; no one knows where he was lost.

Maybe some hostile men killed him on land,

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or he was drowned in Amphitrite’s  waves.°

I beg you, tell me, did you see him die

with your own eyes? Or have you any news

about where he may be? He must be lost.

His mother surely bore him for misfortune.

You need not sweeten what you say, in pity

or from embarrassment. Just tell me straight

what your eyes saw of him, my noble father.

If ever he made promises to you

and kept his word at Troy, in times of trouble,

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remember those times now. Tell me the truth!”

Gerenian Nestor, horse-lord, answered him,

“Dear boy, you call to mind how much we suffered,

with strong, unyielding hearts, in distant lands

when we were sailing over misty seas,

led by Achilles on a hunt for spoils,

and when we fought around the mighty city

of Priam. Our best warriors were killed.

Ajax lies dead there, and there lies Achilles;

there lies his godlike friend and guide, Patroclus;

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my own strong, matchless son lies dead there too,

Antilochus, who fought and ran so well.

More pain, more grief—our sufferings increased.

Who could recount so many, many losses?

If you stayed here five years and kept on asking

how many things the fighters suffered there,

you would get bored and go back home again

before the story ended. Nine long years

we schemed to bring them down, and finally

Zeus made our plots succeed. Odysseus,

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your father, if you really are his son—

well, no one dared to try to equal him

in cleverness. That man was always best

at every kind of trick. And seeing you,

I am amazed at how you talk like him.

One would not think so young a man could do it.

Well, back in Troy, Odysseus and I

always agreed in councils, with one mind.

We gave the Argives all the best advice.

After we conquered Priam’s lofty town,

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a god dispersed the ships of the Achaeans.

Zeus planned a bitter journey home for us,

since some of us had neither sense nor  morals.°

Gray-eyed Athena, daughter of the Thunder,

became enraged and brought about disaster.

She set the sons of Atreus to fight

each other. Hastily, they called the people

at sunset, not observing proper  norms.°

The men arrived already drunk on wine;

the brothers told them why they called the meeting.

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Then Menelaus said that it was time

to sail back home across the open sea.

But Agamemnon disagreed entirely.

He wanted them to stay and sacrifice

to heal the sickness of Athena’s wrath—

pointless! He did not know she would not yield.

The minds of the immortals rarely change.

So those two stood and argued angrily,

and with a dreadful clash of arms the Greeks

leapt up on two opposing sides. We slept

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that eerie night with hearts intent on hatred

against each other—since Zeus meant us harm.

At dawn one group of us dragged down our ships

into the sea piled high with loot and women,

while half the army still remained there, stationed

with Agamemnon, shepherd of the people.

My friends and I set sail with all good speed—

a god had made the choppy sea lie calm.

We came to Tenedos and sacrificed,

praying to get back home—but Zeus refused;

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the cruel god roused yet more strife among us.

Your father’s plans were always flexible:

his men turned round their prows and sailed right back

to make their peace again with Agamemnon.

But I assembled all my fleet, and fled—

I understood some god must mean us harm.

Then Diomedes roused his men to come,

and ruddy Menelaus quickly sailed

to meet with us on Lesbos, and we pondered

our long sea journey. Should we travel north,

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go past the rocks of Chios to our left,

to Psyria, or under Chios, passing

blustery  Mimas?°  So we prayed for signs.

The god told us to cross the open sea

towards Euboea, to escape disaster.

A fair wind whistled and our ships sped on

across the journey-ways of fish, and landed

at nightfall in  Geraestus.°  To Poseidon

we offered many bulls, since we had crossed

safely across wide waters. The fourth day

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the men of Diomedes moored their ships

at Argos; I kept going on, to Pylos.

The wind the god had sent kept holding strong

the whole way home. So, my dear boy, I have

no news about what happened next. I do not

know which of them has died and who is safe.

But I can tell you what I heard while sitting

here in my halls. You ought to know. They say

Achilles’ son led home the  Myrmidons,°

and Philoctetes came back home with  glory.°

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And Idomeneus led back his crew

to  Crete;°  no man of his who had survived

the war was lost at sea. And Agamemnon?

You must have heard, though you live far away.

Aegisthus murdered him! But he has paid

a bitter price. How fortunate the dead man

had left a son to take revenge upon

the wicked, scheming killer, that Aegisthus,

who killed Orestes’ father. My dear boy,

I see that you are tall and strong. Be brave,

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so you will be remembered.”

   Thoughtfully

Telemachus replied, “Your Majesty,

King Nestor, yes. Orestes took revenge.

The Greeks will make him famous through the world

and into future times. I wish the gods

would grant me that much power against those men

who threaten and insult me—those cruel suitors!

The gods have not yet granted us this blessing,

my father and myself. We must endure.”

Gerenian Nestor, lord of horses, answered,

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“Dear boy, since you have brought the subject up,

I have been told about your mother’s suitors,

how badly they are treating you at home.

But do you willingly submit to it?

Or has a god’s voice led the townspeople

to hate you? Well, who knows, perhaps one day

he will come home and take revenge, alone,

or with an army of the  Greeks.°  If only

Athena loved you, as she used to care

for glorious Odysseus at Troy

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when we were doing badly. I have never

seen gods display such favor as she gave

when she stood by your father. If she helped you

with that much love, the suitors would forget

their hopes for marriage.”

 Then Telemachus

replied, “My lord, I doubt that this will happen.

I am surprised you have such confidence.

I would not be so hopeful, even if

the gods were willing.”

       Then the goddess spoke.

“Telemachus, what do you mean? A god

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can easily save anyone, at will,

no matter what the distance. I would rather

suffer immensely, but then get home safe,

than die on my return like Agamemnon,

murdered by his own wife, and by Aegisthus.

But death is universal. Even gods

cannot protect the people that they love,

when fate and cruel death catch up with them.”

Telemachus said apprehensively,

“Mentes, this is upsetting. Change the subject.

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He has no real chance now of getting home.

The gods have fenced him round with death and darkness.

Let me ask Nestor something else—he is

wiser and more informed than anyone.

They say he ruled for three whole generations.

He looks to me like some immortal god.

So Nestor, son of Neleus, please tell me,

how did the great King Agamemnon die?

And where was Menelaus? Was he lost,

away from Greece, when that Aegisthus dared

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to kill a king, a better man than him?

How did that wicked trickster’s plot succeed?”

Gerenian Nestor, lord of horses, answered,

“I will tell everything—though you can guess

what would have happened if fair Menelaus

had found Aegisthus living in his halls

on his return. And even when he died,

no one would bury him; he lay upon

the open plain without a tomb and far

from town for birds and dogs to eat. No Greek

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would mourn that monster. While we fought and labored

at Troy, this layabout sat safe in Argos,

seducing Clytemnestra, noble wife

of Agamemnon. For a while, she scorned

his foul suggestions, since her heart was good.

Moreover, when her husband went to Troy,

he left a poet, ordered to protect her.

But finally Fate forced the queen to  yield.°

Aegisthus left the poet to be eaten

by birds, abandoned on a desert island.

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He led the woman back to his own house

by mutual desire, and then he made

numerous offerings on holy altars

of animals and lovely gold and cloth:

he had succeeded far beyond his hopes.

And meanwhile, I left Troy with Menelaus;

we sailed together, best of friends. We reached

the holy cape of Athens, Sounion.

There Phoebus with his gentle arrows shot

and killed the pilot, Phrontis, as he held

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the ship’s helm as she sped along. No man

knew better how to steer through any storm,

so Menelaus stopped to bury him

with proper rites. At last he sailed again

across the wine-dark sea; but as his ships

rushed round the craggy heights of Malea,

far-seeing Zeus sent curses on his journey,

pouring out screaming winds and giant waves

the size of mountains—splitting up the fleet.

Some ships were hurled to Crete, to River Jardan,

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where the Cydonian people have their homes.

There steep rock rises sheer above the sea

near Gortyn in the misty deep; south winds

drive mighty waves towards the left-hand crag,

and push them west to  Phaestus;°  one small rock

restrains the massive currents. All the ships

were smashed by waves against those rocks. The men

were almost drowned. Five other dark-prowed ships

were blown by wind and sea away to Egypt.

There Menelaus gathered wealth and gold

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and drifted with his ships through foreign lands.

Meanwhile at home, Aegisthus had been plotting.

He killed the son of Atreus and seized

control of rich Mycenae, where he reigned

for seven years. But in the eighth, Orestes

came to destroy him. He returned from Athens,

and killed his father’s murderer, then called

the Argives to a funeral, a feast

for clever, scheming, cowardly Aegisthus

whom he had killed, and his own hated mother.

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That very day, rambunctious Menelaus

arrived with all his ships crammed full of treasure.

The moral is, you must not stay away

too long, dear boy, when those proud suitors lurk

inside your house. They may divide your wealth

among themselves and make your journey useless.

But I suggest you go to Menelaus.

He recently returned from lands so distant

no one would even hope to get home safe

once driven by the winds so far off course,

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over such dangerous, enormous seas.

Birds migrate there and take a year or more

to travel back. Go visit him by ship

with your own crew. Or if you would prefer,

you can go there by land—here is a carriage.

My sons can guide you all the way to  Sparta,°

to Menelaus. Ask him for the truth.

He will not lie; he is an honest man.”

The sun went down and darkness fell. The goddess,

bright-eyed Athena, spoke to them.

    “King Nestor,

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your speech was good and your advice was sound.

But now slice up the tongues and pour the wine

for Lord Poseidon and the other gods

before we rest—time now to go to bed.

The light is fading and it is not right

to linger at a banquet in the dark.”

The people listened to Athena’s words.

The house slaves poured fresh water on their hands,

and boys filled up the mixing bowls with wine,

and poured it into cups, and first prepared

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the sacrifice. They threw tongues on the fire,

then sprinkled wine, then each man drank his fill.

Then Zeus’ daughter and the godlike boy

both rose to go together to their ship.

But Nestor called to stop them.

    “Zeus forbids it!

And all the other gods who live forever!

You cannot leave my house for your swift ship

as if I were a poor and ragged man

with so few beds and blankets in his home

that neither he nor guests can sleep in comfort.

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I have soft quilts and blankets in abundance.

The darling son of great Odysseus

must not sleep on the ship’s deck, while I live!

Not while my sons remain here in my house,

ready to welcome anyone who visits.”

The bright-eyed goddess answered him, “Old friend,

you are quite right. Telemachus should do

just as you say. That is a better plan.

He will stay here tonight and go to sleep

in your fine palace. But I must go back

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to tell the crew the news and keep them strong.

You see, I am the oldest in our party.

The rest are younger men, close friends together,

the same age as our brave Telemachus.

I will sleep there beside the hollow ship.

At dawn I have important obligations:

to visit with the great Cauconians.

The boy can be your guest. Then send him off

escorted by your son. Give him a carriage,

drawn by your strongest and most nimble  horses.”°

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Bright-eyed Athena flew away, transformed

into an  ossifrage.°  Astonishment

seized all the people watching, even Nestor.

He seized Telemachus’ hand and said,

“Dear boy, I am now sure that you will be

a hero, since the gods are on your side

at your young age. This was a god, none other

than great Athena, true-born child of Zeus,

who also glorified your noble father.

Goddess, be kind to us as well, and grant

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honor to me, my good wife, and our sons.

Now I will sacrifice a yearling heifer,

broad-browed and still unyoked, and gild her horns

with gold to bless your journey.”

    So he spoke,

and Pallas heard his prayer. Gerenian Nestor

led them and led his sons and sons-in-law

inside his own magnificent great hall.

When they were all inside, he seated them

on benches and on chairs arranged in order,

and he himself mixed up the bowl for them

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of sweet delicious wine. He had preserved it

eleven years. The slave girl opened it,

pulling the lid off. As the old man mixed,

he prayed and poured libations for Athena.

They all poured also, then they drank their fill,

then each went home to sleep in his own chamber.

Nestor the horseman made a special bed

right there for his dear friend, the warrior’s son:

a camp bed on the echoing portico,

beside Pisistratus, the only son

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not living with a wife but still at home.

Nestor himself slept by his wife, the queen,

in a secluded corner of the palace.

When newborn Dawn appeared with rosy fingers,

the horse-lord Nestor jumped up out of bed,

and hurried down towards the polished stones

that stood outside his palace, bright with  oil.°

There Neleus used to give godlike advice,

until Fate took him and he went to Hades,

and Nestor, guardian of the Greeks, took over

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the scepter. From their rooms his sons arrived

to throng around him: Echephron and Stratius,

Aretus, Perseus, great Thrasymedes,

and strong Pisistratus the sixth. They brought

godlike Telemachus to sit with them.

Nestor spoke first.

     “Dear sons, now hurry up,

fulfill my wishes. First we must appease

Athena, who revealed herself to me

during the holy feast. Now one of you

must run down to the fields to choose a cow;

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let herdsmen drive her back here. And another,

go to Telemachus’ ship and bring

the men—leave only two behind. Another

must bring Laerces here, who pours the gold,

so he can gild the heifer’s horns. You others,

stay here together. Tell the girls inside

to cook a royal feast, and set out seats,

put wood around the altar, and clear water.”

At that, the sons all got to work. The cow

was brought up from the field. The crew arrived

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from the swift, solid ship. The goldsmith came

with all the bronze tools useful for his trade—

hammer and anvil and well-crafted tongs—

and worked the gold. Athena came to take

the sacrifice. King Nestor gave the gold;

the craftsman poured it on the horns, to make

a lovely offering to please the goddess.

Stratius and Echephron together led

the heifer by the horns. Aretus came

and brought a water bowl adorned with flowers,

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and in his other hand, a box of grain.

Strong Thrasymedes stood nearby and held

a sharpened axe, prepared to strike the cow.

Perseus held the blood-bowl. Nestor started

to sprinkle barley-groats and ritual  water,°

and as he threw the hairs into the fire

he said prayers to Athena. When the rites

were finished, mighty Thrasymedes struck.

The axe sliced through the sinews of the neck.

The cow was paralyzed. Then Nestor’s daughters

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and his sons’ wives, and his own loyal queen,

Eurydice, began to  chant.°  The men

hoisted the body, and Pisistratus

sliced through her  throat.°  Black blood poured out. The life

was gone. They butchered her, cut out the thighs,

all in the proper place, and covered them

with double fat and placed raw flesh upon  them.°

The old king burned the pieces on the logs,

and poured the bright red wine. The young men came

to stand beside him holding five-pronged forks.

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They burned the thigh-bones thoroughly and tasted

the entrails, then carved up the rest and skewered

the meat on pointed spits, and roasted it.

Meanwhile, Telemachus was being washed

by Nestor’s eldest daughter, Polycaste.

When she had washed and rubbed his skin with oil

she dressed him in a tunic and fine cloak

and he emerged; his looks were like a god’s.

He sat by Nestor, shepherd of the people.

The meat was roasted and drawn off the spits.

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They sat to eat, while trained slaves served the food,

pouring the wine for them in golden cups.

After their hunger and their thirst were gone,

Gerenian Nestor, horse-lord, started talking.

“My sons, now bring two horses with fine manes

and yoke them to the carriage, so our guest

can start his journey.”

They obeyed at once,

and quickly latched swift horses to the carriage.

One of the house girls brought out food and wine

and delicacies fit to feed a king.

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Telemachus got in the lovely carriage;

Pisistratus, the son of Nestor, followed,

and sat beside him, taking up the reins,

and whipped the horses. Eagerly they flew

off for the open plain, and left the town.

All day they ran and made the harness rattle.

At sunset when the streets grew dark, they came

to Pherae, to the home of Diocles,

son of Ortilochus; Alpheus was

his grandfather. They spent the night as guests.

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When rosy-fingered Dawn came bright and early,

they yoked the horses to the painted carriage,

and drove out from the gate and echoing porch.

At a light touch of whip, the horses flew.

Swiftly they drew towards their journey’s end,

on through the fields of wheat, until the sun

began to set and shadows filled the streets.