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the bow and turning it this way and that,

to see if worms had eaten at the horn

while he was gone. The suitors told each other,

“He stares at it as if he were an expert

in bows. He acts the part! Perhaps he has400

a bow like this at home or plans to make one.

See how this pitiful migrant fingers it!”

One confident young suitor said, “I hope

his future luck will match how well he does

in stringing it!”

So he had tricked them all.

After examining the mighty bow

carefully, inch by inch—as easily

as an experienced musician stretches

a sheep-gut string around a lyre’s peg

and makes it fast—Odysseus, with ease,410

strung the great bow. He held it in his right hand

and plucked the string, which sang like swallow-song,

a clear sweet note. The suitors, horrified,

grew pale, and Zeus made ominous thunder rumble.

Odysseus, who had so long been waiting,

was glad to hear the signal from the son

of double-dealing Cronus. He took up

an arrow, which was lying on the table.

The others were all packed up in the quiver,

soon to be used. He laid it on the bridge,420

then pulled the notch-end and the string together,

still sitting in his chair. With careful aim,

he shot. The weighted tip of bronze flew through

each axe head and then out the other side.

He told his son,

“Telemachus, your guest

does you a credit. I hit all the targets

and with no effort strung the bow. I am

still strong, despite their jibes about my weakness.

Though it is daytime, it is time to feast;

and later, we can celebrate with music,430

the joyful part of dinner.”

With his eyebrows

he signaled, and his son strapped on his sword,

picked up his spear, and stood beside his chair,

next to his father, his bronze weapons flashing.

BOOK 22

Bloodshed

Odysseus ripped off his rags. Now naked,

he leapt upon the threshold with his bow

and quiverfull of arrows, which he tipped

out in a rush before his feet, and spoke.

“Playtime is over. I will shoot again,

towards another mark no man has hit.

Apollo, may I manage it!”

He aimed

his deadly arrow at Antinous.

The young man sat there, just about to lift

his golden goblet, swirling wine around,10

ready to drink. He had no thought of death.

How could he? Who would think a single man,

among so many banqueters, would dare

to risk dark death, however strong he was?

Odysseus aimed at his throat, then shot.

The point pierced all the way through his soft neck.

He flopped down to the side and his cup slipped

out of his hand, and then thick streams of blood

gushed from his nostrils. His foot twitched and knocked

the table down; food scattered on the ground.20

The bread and roasted meat were soiled with blood.

Seeing him fall, the suitors, in an uproar,

with shouts that filled the hall, jumped up and rushed

to search around by all the thick stone walls

for shields or swords to grab—but there were none.

They angrily rebuked Odysseus.

“Stranger, you shot a man, and you will pay!

You will join no more games—you have to die!

For certain! You have killed the best young man

in all of Ithaca. Right here, the vultures30

will eat your corpse.” Those poor fools did not know

that he had killed Antinous on purpose,

nor that the snares of death were round them all.

Clever Odysseus scowled back and sneered,

“Dogs! So you thought I would not come back home

from Troy? And so you fleeced my house, and raped

my slave girls, and you flirted with my wife

while I am still alive! You did not fear

the gods who live in heaven, and you thought

no man would ever come to take revenge.40

Now you are trapped inside the snares of death.”

At that, pale fear seized all of them. They groped

to find a way to save their lives somehow.

Only Eurymachus found words to answer.

“If it is you, Odysseus, come back,

then we agree! Quite right, the Greeks have done

outrageous things to your estate and home.

But now the one responsible is dead—

Antinous! It was all his idea.

He did not even really want your wife,50

but had another plan, which Zeus has foiled:

to lie in ambush for your son, and kill him,

then seize the throne and rule in Ithaca.

Now he is slain—quite rightly. Please, my lord,

have mercy on your people! We will pay

in public, yes, for all the food and drink.

We each will bring the price of twenty oxen,

and pay you all the gold and bronze you want.

Your anger is quite understandable.”

Odysseus saw through him; with a glare60

he told him, “Even if you give me all

your whole inheritance, and even more,

I will not keep my hands away from slaughter

until I pay you suitors back for all

your wickedness. You have two choices: fight,

or run away: just try to save your lives!

Not one of you will get away from death.”

At that their knees grew weak, their hearts stopped still.

Eurymachus again addressed the suitors.

“My friends, this man will not hold back his hands.70

Seizing the bow and arrows, he will shoot us

right from that polished threshold, till he kills

each one of us. Be quick, make plans for battle.

Draw out your swords, use tables as your shields

against the deadly arrows. All together,

rush at him, try to drive him off the threshold,

and out of doors, then run all through the town,

and quickly call for help. This man will soon

have shot his last!”

He drew his sharp bronze sword

and with a dreadful scream he leapt at him.80

But that same instant, Lord Odysseus

let fly and hit his chest, beside the nipple,

and instantly the arrow pierced his liver.

The sword fell from his hand. He doubled up

and fell across the table, spilling food

and wine across the floor. He smashed his head

against the ground, and in his desperate pain

kicked up the chair, and darkness drenched his eyes.

Amphinomus attacked Odysseus.

He drew his sharp sword, hoping he could force him90

to yield his place. Telemachus leapt in

and thrust his bronze spear through him from behind,

ramming it through his back and out his chest.

Face-first he crashed and thudded to the ground.

Telemachus dashed back—he left his spear

stuck in the body; he was terrified

that if he bent to pull it out, some Greek

would jump on him and stab him with a sword.

He ran and quickly reached his loyal father.

He stood beside him and his words flew out.100

“Now Father, I will fetch a shield for you

and two spears and a helmet made of bronze,

and I will arm myself, and bring more arms

for our two herdsmen, since we all need weapons.”

Odysseus, the master planner, answered,

“Run fast while I still have a stock of arrows,

before they force me from the doors—I am

fighting alone up here.”

His son obeyed.

He hurried to the storeroom for the arms,

and took eight spears, four shields, and four bronze helmets110

each fitted out with bushy horsehair plumes.

He hurried back to take them to his father,

and was the first to strap the armor on.

The two slaves also armed themselves, and stood

flanking their brilliant, resourceful leader.

As long as he had arrows, he kept shooting,

and one by one he picked the suitors off,

inside his own home. Then at last the king

ran out of arrows; he set down his bow

next to the sturdy doorpost, leaning up120