‘Suitors,’ she said, ‘since divine Odysseus is gone, let me finish this burial cloth for Laertes, so it won’t rot unused. It’s for the day death takes him.’
That’s what she told us. And we believed her. She worked at the loom by day—but every night, by torchlight, she unraveled it. For three years, we didn’t see the trick. But when the fourth year came, and the seasons had passed, one of her maids betrayed her. We caught her at it. And under pressure, she was forced to finish it.
‘Young men, my suitors, since brilliant Odysseus is dead, although you are in a hurry to marry me, be patient, until I finish this robe, so my spinning will not be all for nothing. It is a shroud for the great champion, Laertes, for the time when the cruel finality of unforgiving death will strike him down, or in case some of the Akhaian women in this land may become outraged at me, if he, who had acquired so much, were to lie without a shroud.’
“As she spoke, our eager hearts were persuaded. From then on, every day she’d weave at that enormous loom, and at night, with torches placed beside her, she would unravel it. With this ruse, for three years she swayed the Akhaians, and they did not notice. But when the fourth year came and the seasons rolled around, one of her women, who understood it clearly, told us, and we surprised her as she was unraveling that splendid web. And so she finished it by force, against her will.
‘Young men, my suitors, even though godlike Odysseus is dead, be patient, eager though you may be for this marriage, until I get this cloak finished; I don’t want to leave loose ends that would make my work unravel. It’s a burial cloth for the warrior Laertes, for the sorrowful time when the dread fate of death will lay him low. I would rightly be held in disgrace by any Achaean woman in the land if a man who had attained such wealth were left to lie without a shroud.’ She spoke those words, and the manly hearts within us were persuaded. So every day she was weaving her vast web, while every night, by the light of torches she had set beside her, she was undoing it again. For three years she got away with this trick and fooled the Achaeans, but as the seasons came on and on and we were into the fourth year, one of the women who knew all about it told us, and we caught her in the act of unweaving the splendid tapestry. So finally, against her will, she finished it under compulsion.
‘My lords, my Suitors, though Odysseus is dead and you are eager for me to marry, have patience till I complete this work, I do not want it wasted, this shroud for noble Laertes, ready for when pitiless death’s cruel end overtakes him: since I fear some Achaean woman of this land would blame me, if he who won great wealth lay there without a shroud.’
So she said, and though proud we agreed. Then day after day she wove the great web, but at night, by torchlight, she unmade it. So for three years she cunningly kept the Achaeans from knowing, and so tricked them. But when the fourth year began, as the seasons rolled by, one of her women, knowing all, told us, and we caught her unravelling its fineness. Then she was forced, unwillingly, to complete it.
‘Ah, young men! Please forgive me if I do not marry one of you until I have finished this cloth which is prone to unravel if I cease. Without a winding sheet, Laertes—who has won such honors—is dishonored. At least in the eyes of Ithaca’s women.’ And so we stood by as she laid a great warp up and down her loom and wove throughout the day, but”—and here his voice dropped ominously—“during the night by torchlight she unraveled the shroud she wove by day, halving, then halving again her work so that it proceeded painfully slow. Yes! This your mother did while we waited upon her pleasure, while Ithaca waited upon her pleasure. For three whole years she plied her woman’s wiles against us—mocking us, if you will. But then, in the fourth year, through a servant sick of her deceit, we learned of her deception.
“Young men, you who are my suitors now that godlike Odysseus is dead, you are eager for this marriage with me, but wait until I finish this robe, so that my weaving is not wasted in vain. It is a burial-shroud for the hero Laertes, for when the cruel fate of death’s long sorrow takes him – so that none of the Achaian women in the town should think wrong of me, that a man of many possessions should lie there without a shroud.” That is what she said, and our proud hearts believed her. Then in the day time she would weave away at the great web, but at nights she would undo the work, with torches set by the loom. So for three years her trick fooled and convinced the Achaians. But when the fourth year came and the seasons had progressed once more, then it was that one of her women, who knew the truth, told us about it, and we found her undoing the splendid web. So she was forced to finish it against her will.
“‘Young men, my suitors, since noble Odysseus is dead, be patient, though eager for my marriage, until I finish this robe—I would not have my spinning come to naught—a shroud for the hero Laertes, against the time when the cruel fate of pitiless death shall strike him down; for fear any of the Achaean women in the land should cast blame upon me, if he were to lie without a shroud who had won great possessions.’
“So she spoke, and our proud hearts consented. Then day by day she would weave at the great web, but by night would unravel it, having had torches placed beside her. Thus for three years she by her craft kept the Achaeans from knowing, and beguiled them; but when the fourth year came as the seasons rolled on, then it was that one of her women, who knew all, told us, and we caught her unraveling the splendid web. So she finished it against her will, perforce.
‘Young men, who are my suitors, now that divine Odysseus is dead, though you are eager for my marriage, wait until such time as I complete the robe, so that the threads are not wasted uselessly, a funeral shroud for the hero Laertes, against the day when the dreadful fate of death with its long-lasting sorrow takes him in her grip, in case any of the Achaian women among the folk hold it against me if he lies there without a winding sheet, for all the possessions he has got.’
So she spoke, and on our side our proud hearts obeyed her. Then in the daytime she used to weave the great web, and at night she undid it, when she had set torches by her side. In this way for three years by her trickery she escaped detection, and prevailed on the Achaians. But when the fourth year came and the seasons were on us, then one of the women, who knew the truth, told, and we caught her undoing the bright web. In this way she finished it, even though she did not want to, under duress.
“My lords, my Suitors, now that noble Odysseus is dead, restrain your ardour, do not urge on this marriage till I have done this work, so that the threads I have spun may not be altogether wasted. It is a shroud for Lord Laertes. When he succumbs to the dread hand of remorseless Death that stretches all men out at last, I must not risk the scandal there would be among my countrywomen here if one who had amassed such wealth were laid to rest without a shroud.” That’s what she said; and we magnanimously consented. So by day she used to weave at the great web, but every night had torches set beside it and undid the work.
For three years she took us in by this trick. A fourth began, and the seasons were slipping by, when one of her women who knew all about it gave her mistress away. We caught her unravelling her beautiful work, and she was forced reluctantly to complete it.
“Young men who after Odysseus’ death have come here to woo me, you are eager for this marriage with me; nevertheless I ask your patience till I have finished weaving this robe, so that what I have spun may not be wasted and go for nothing; it is King Laertes’ burial-robe, for the time when he is overtaken by the grim doom of distressful death. I dread reproach from Achaean women here for allowing one who had gathered great possessions to lie at his death without a shroud.” So she spoke, and our wills consented. From that time on she would weave the great web all day, but when night came she would have torches set beside her and would unravel the work. For three years on end this trickery foiled the trusting suitors; but when seasons passed and the fourth year came, one of her maids who was in the secret revealed the truth, and we came upon her undoing the glossy web; so with ill grace she finished the work perforce.
“Young men, my suitors, since incomparable Odysseus has died, wait on my marriage, eager though you are, until I finish this robe as a shroud for the highly honored Laërtes, lest my yarn be ruined and useless for the day when the destructive fate of prostrating death shall lay Laërtes low. Then some Achaean women throughout the land might well be indignant against me, should a man of so great wealth be laid out dead without a shroud.’
“Thus she spoke and our lordly hearts agreed. She then made a practice of weaving the large web by day but unraveling at night by torchlight what she had woven by day. For three long years she hid her crafty plan and thus deceived the Achaeans. But when the fourth year arrived and the seasons rolled round again, one of the women, who knew the entire scheme, made known her trick. And we caught her unraveling the splendid robe. Thus was she forced against her will to finish it.
“I should be grateful to you young lords who are courting me, now that King Odysseus is dead, if you could restrain your ardour for my hand till I have done this work, so that the threads I have spun may not be utterly wasted. It is a winding-sheet for Lord Laertes. When he succumbs to the dread hand of Death that stretches all men out at last, I must not risk the scandal there would be among my countrywomen here if one who had amassed such wealth were put to rest without a shroud.” That’s how she talked; and we, like gentlemen, let her persuade us; with the result that by day she wove at the great web, but every night had torches set beside it and undid the work. For three years she fooled us with this trick. A fourth began, and the seasons were already slipping by, when one of her women, who knew all about it, gave her mistress away. We caught her unravelling her beautiful work, and she was forced reluctantly to complete it.
‘Young men who seek my hand, now that Odysseus is dead I know you are in a hurry for marriage; but wait until I finish this cloth, for I don’t want to waste all the thread I have spun. It is a shroud for my lord Laërtês, against the time when all-destroying fate shall carry him away in dolorous death. I should not like the women of our nation to cry scandal, if he should lie without a winding-sheet when he had great possessions.’
“That is what she said, and we swallowed our pride, and consented. There she was all day long, working away at the great web; but at night she used to unravel it by torchlight. So for three years she deluded the whole nation, and they believed her. But the seasons passed on, and the fourth year began, and a time came when one of her women told us, one who knew the secret; we caught her unravelling that fine web! So she had to finish it, because she must, not because she would.
‘Sweet hearts, go slow. Allay your burning intent to have me married. The death of royal Odysseus lays on me the duty of completing this linen shroud, to save its gossamer threads from being scattered to the winds. It is for the burial of Laertes, the aged hero: and it must be ready against the inevitable day when fate will pull him to the ground and death measure out his length. If I leave it undone, and in consequence the corpse of this old, once-wealthy man lie bare of cerement, I shall be the pointing-block of every Achaean woman within our neighbourhood.’
“So she protested, and our manly hearts credited her tale. Daily she laboured at the vast loom, weaving: but each night she had torches brought in and unravelled the day’s woof. Thus for the space of three years she deceived us and cheated the Achaeans: but when the fourth year was wearing through its sequence of seasons one of her maids, who knew the whole truth, told on her. Then we caught her in the act of unpicking the glorious web: and forced her against her inclination to finish it right off.
‘My young suitors, although eager for my marriage, since Odysseus is dead, wait until I finish this robe, lest its threads be wasted. It is a shroud for lord Laertes when dire death shall lay him low. I fear that the Achaean women may censure me, if he who had such great possessions should lie without a shroud.’ So she said, and our manly hearts assented. Then by day she wove the great garment, but by torchlight at night unraveled it. Thus for three years she succeeded in cheating us Achaeans. But at last, in the fourth year, one of her maids let out the secret and we caught her unraveling the splendid shroud; and so she was compelled to finish it.
‘Young men, my wooers, since goodly Odysseus is dead, be patient, though eager for my marriage, until I finish this robe—I would not that my spinning should come to naught—a shroud for the lord Laertes, against the time when the fell fate of grievous death shall strike him down; lest any Achaean woman in the land should be wroth with me, if he who had won great possessions lay without a shroud.’
So she spoke, and our proud hearts consented. Then day by day she would weave at the great web, but by night would unravel it, when she had let place torches by her. Thus for three years she by her craft kept the Achaeans from knowing, and beguiled them; but when the fourth year came as the seasons rolled on, even then one of her women who knew all told us, and we caught her unravelling the splendid web. So she finished it against her will, perforce.
‘Sweet hearts,’ said she, ‘Ulysses is indeed dead, still do not press me to marry again immediately, wait—for I would not have skill in needlework perish unrecorded—till I have completed a pall for the hero Laertes, to be in readiness against the time when death shall take him. He is very rich, and the women of the place will talk if he is laid out without a pall.’ “This was what she said, and we assented; whereon we could see her working on her great web all day long, but at night she would unpick the stitches again by torchlight. She fooled us in this way for three years and we never found her out, but as time wore on and she was now in her fourth year, one of her maids who knew what she was doing told us, and we caught her in the act of undoing her work, so she had to finish it whether she would or no.
‘Young men who are my suitors, though royal Odysseus now is dead, forbear to urge my marriage till I complete this robe,—its threads must not be wasted,—a shroud for lord Laeärtes, against the time when the sad doom of death that lays men low shall overtake him. Achaean wives about the land, I fear, might give me blame if he should lie without a shroud, he who had great possessions.’ Such were her words, and our high hearts assented. Then in the daytime would she weave at the great web, but in the night unravel, after her torch was set. Thus for three years she hid her craft and cheated the Achaeans. But when the fourth year came, as time rolled on, then at the last one of her slave-maids, who knew full well, confessed, and we discovered her unraveling the splendid web; so then she finished it, against her will, by force.
“‘Ye princely youths, my wooers, now that the goodly Odysseus is dead, do ye abide patiently, how eager soever to speed on this marriage of mine, till I finish the robe. I would not that the threads perish to no avail, even this shroud for the hero Laertes, against the day when the ruinous doom shall bring him low, of death that lays men at their length. So shall none of the Achaean women in the land count it blame in me, as well might be, were he to lie without a winding-sheet, a man that had gotten great possessions.’ “So spake she, and our high hearts consented thereto. So then in the day time she would weave the mighty web, and in the night unravel the same, when she had let place the torches by her. Thus for the space of three years she hid the thing by craft and beguiled the minds of the Achaeans; but when the fourth year arrived and the seasons came round, then at the last one of her women who knew all declared it, and we found her unravelling the splendid web. Thus she finished it perforce and sore against her will.
“Youths, my suitors, since the divine Ulysses is dead, remain ye urging on my marriage, until I shall have finished this veil—may my threads not perish in vain—a shroud for the hero Laertes, for the time when the destructive fate of long-sleeping death shall seize him. Lest some one of the Grecian women amongst the people should be
angry with me, if he should lie without a shroud, after having possessed much property.” Thus she spoke, and our noble minds were persuaded. Then during the day she wove the large web, but at night, when she had placed the torches near her, she unravelled it. Thus for three years she escaped observation by deceit, and persuaded the Grecians; but when the fourth year came, and the hours advanced, then indeed some one of the women, who knew it clearly, informed us; and we found her unravelling the beautiful web. Accordingly, she finished it by necessity, although unwilling.
Κουροι young men εμοι μνηστηρες my suitors, επει since διος Οδυσσευς divine Ulysses θανεν is dead, μιμνετε forbear επειγομενοι urging on τον εμον γαμον my marriage, εισοκεν until εκτελεσω I shall have completed φαρος a garment — νηματα μοι may my webs μη οληται not perish μεταμωνια fruitless! — ταφηϊον funereal Λαερτη ἡρωϊ for the hero Laertes, εις οτε for the time when μοιρα ολον the deadly fate τανηλεγεος θανατοιο of long extended death καθελῃσι κε may surprize μιν him; μη lest τις some one Αχαιϊαδων of Achaean women κατα δημον throughout the people νεμεσησῃ should be angry, αι if κηται κεν he should lie ατερ σπειρου without a shroud κτεατισσας when he had stored up πολλα many things.” Ὡς thus εφατο she said; ἡμιν δε but for us θυμος αγηνωρ our generous soul επεπειθετο acquiesced. Ενθα then και also ἡματιν μεν by day ὑφαινεσκε she wove μεγαν ἱστον the ample loom, νυκτας δε but at nights αλλυνεσκε she undid it, επην when παραθειτο she placed by her δαιδας the torches. Ὡς thus τριετες μεν for three years indeed εληθε she escaped notice δολῳ by stratagem, και and επειθε persuaded Αχαιους the Greeks: αλλα βυτ οτε when τετρατον ετος the fourth year ηλθε came, και and ὡραι the seasons επηλυθον came on, και τοτε δη both then indeed τις some one γυναικων of the women η who ηδη knew σαφα clearly. ειπε told us, και and εφευρομεν we found τηνγε her αλλουσαι undoing αγλαον ιστον the splendid web. ‘Ως thus εξετελεσσε she completed το μεν it indeed, και although ουκ εθελουσα not willing, υπ’ αναγκης by necessity.
‘Youths, my suitors, since godlike Ulysses is dead, stay urging my marriage until I shall finish this veil, that my threads may not perish in vain, a shroud for the hero Laertes, at the time when the destructive fate of long-slumbering death shall seize him. Lest some one amongst the Grecian women be indignant against me, should he lie without a wrapper, having possessed many things.’ Thus she spoke, and our proud mind was persuaded. Then during the day she wove the mighty web; but at night, when she had placed the torches near her, she unravelled it. Thus for three years, indeed, she escaped by deceit, and persuaded the Grecians. But when the fourth year came, and the hours advanced on, then indeed some one of the women, who knew it well, told it; and we found her unravelling the splendid web; so that she finished it of necessity, although unwilling.
‘Youths, my suitors, since the divine Ulysses is dead, remain ye urging my marriage, until I shall finish this veil, that my threads may not perish in vain, a shroud for the hero Laertes, for the time when the destructive fate of long-sleeping death shall seize him. Lest some one of the Grecian women amongst the people should be angry with me, if he should lie without a garment, having possessed many things.’ Thus she spoke, and our proud minds were persuaded. Then during the day she wove the large web, but at night when she had placed the torches near her, raveled it. Thus for three years she escaped by deceit, and persuaded the Grecians; but when the fourth year came, and the hours advanced, then indeed some one of the women, who knew it well, told it; and we found her raveling the beautiful web; so she finished it of necessity, although unwilling.