Return of the Greeks from Troy

During the sacking of Troy, the Greeks, in their hour of victory, committed many acts of desecration and cruelty that angered the gods. As a result, their homeward voyage was filled with dangers and disasters, and many perished before they reached their native land.

Nestor, Diomedes, Philoctetes, and Neoptolemus were among those who arrived safely in Greece after a prosperous voyage. The vessel that carried Menelaus and Helen was driven by violent storms to the coast of Egypt, and only after many years of weary wanderings and hardships did they succeed in reaching their home at Sparta.

Ajax the Lesser, having offended Pallas-Athene by desecrating her temple on the night Troy was destroyed, was shipwrecked off Cape Caphareus. He managed to cling to a rock, and his life might have been spared but for his impious boast that he needed no help from the gods. No sooner had he uttered those sacrilegious words than Poseidon, enraged at his audacity, split the rock with his trident, and the unfortunate Ajax was overwhelmed by the waves.

FATE OF AGAMEMNON

The homeward voyage of Agamemnon was fairly uneventful and prosperous, but on his arrival at Mycenae, misfortune and ruin awaited him.

His wife Clytemnestra, in revenge for the sacrifice of her beloved daughter Iphigenia, had formed a secret alliance during his absence with Aegisthus, the son of Thyestes. Upon Agamemnon's return, they conspired to bring about his destruction. Clytemnestra pretended great joy at seeing her husband, and despite the urgent warnings of Cassandra, who was now a captive in his train, he accepted her protestations of affection with trusting confidence. In her well-assumed anxiety for the comfort of the weary traveler, she prepared a warm bath for his refreshment, and at a given signal from the treacherous queen, Aegisthus, who was concealed in an adjoining chamber, rushed upon the defenseless hero and slew him.

During the massacre of Agamemnon's retainers that followed, his daughter Electra, with great presence of mind, managed to save her young brother Orestes. He fled for refuge to his uncle Strophius, king of Phocis, who educated him alongside his own son Pylades. An ardent friendship sprang up between the youths, which, from its constancy and selflessness, became proverbial.

As Orestes grew to manhood, his one great all-consuming desire was to avenge his father's death. Accompanied by his faithful friend Pylades, he went in disguise to Mycenae, where Aegisthus and Clytemnestra reigned jointly over the kingdom of Argos. To avoid suspicion, he had taken the precaution to send a messenger to Clytemnestra, purporting to come from King Strophius, announcing the untimely death of her son Orestes in an accident during a chariot race at Delphi.

Arriving at Mycenae, he found his sister Electra so overwhelmed with grief at the news of her brother's death that he revealed his identity to her. When he heard from her lips how cruelly she had been treated by her mother, and how joyfully the news of his demise had been received, his long-suppressed passion completely overpowered him. Rushing into the presence of the king and queen, he first pierced Clytemnestra to the heart, and then her guilty partner.

But the crime of murdering his own mother was not long unavenged by the gods. Hardly had the fatal act been committed when the Furies appeared and unceasingly pursued the unfortunate Orestes wherever he went. In this wretched state, he sought refuge in the temple of Delphi, where he earnestly begged Apollo to release him from his cruel tormentors. The god commanded him, as expiation for his crime, to go to Taurica-Chersonesus and bring back the statue of Artemis to the kingdom of Attica, an expedition fraught with extreme peril. We have already seen in a former chapter how Orestes escaped the fate that befell all strangers who landed on the Taurian coast, and how, with the aid of his sister Iphigenia, the priestess of the temple, he succeeded in conveying the statue of the goddess to his native country.

But the Furies did not easily relinquish their prey, and only through the intervention of the just and powerful goddess Pallas-Athene was Orestes finally liberated from their persecution. With his peace of mind at length restored, Orestes assumed the government of the kingdom of Argos and married the beautiful Hermione, daughter of Helen and Menelaus. To his faithful friend Pylades, he gave the hand of his beloved sister, the good and faithful Electra.

HOMEWARD VOYAGE OF ODYSSEUS

With his twelve ships laden with enormous treasures captured during the sacking of Troy, Odysseus set sail with a light heart for his rocky island home of Ithaca. At last the happy hour had arrived which for ten long years the hero had anxiously awaited, and he little dreamed that ten more must elapse before the Fates would permit him to clasp his beloved wife and child to his heart.

During his homeward voyage, his little fleet was driven by stress of weather to a land whose inhabitants subsisted entirely on a curious plant called the lotus, which was sweet as honey to the taste but had the effect of causing utter forgetfulness of home and country, and creating an irresistible longing to remain forever in the land of the lotus-eaters. Odysseus and his companions were hospitably received by the inhabitants, who regaled them freely with their peculiar and very delicious food. After partaking of it, however, his comrades refused to leave the country, and it was only by sheer force that he at length succeeded in bringing them back to their ships.

POLYPHEMUS

Continuing their journey, they next arrived at the country of the Cyclopes, a race of giants remarkable for having only one eye, placed in the center of their foreheads. Here Odysseus, whose love of adventure overcame more prudent considerations, left his fleet safely anchored in the bay of a neighboring island, and with twelve chosen companions set out to explore the country.

Near the shore they found a vast cave, into which they boldly entered. In the interior they saw to their surprise huge piles of cheese and great pails of milk ranged round the walls. After partaking freely of these provisions, his companions tried to persuade Odysseus to return to the ship, but the hero, being curious to meet the owner of this extraordinary abode, ordered them to remain and await his pleasure.

Towards evening a fierce giant made his appearance, bearing an enormous load of wood on his shoulders and driving before him a large flock of sheep. This was Polyphemus, the son of Poseidon, the owner of the cave. After all his sheep had entered, the giant rolled before the entrance an enormous rock, which the combined strength of a hundred men would have been powerless to move.

Having kindled a fire of great logs of pinewood, he was about to prepare his supper when the flames revealed to him, in a corner of the cavern, its new occupants, who now came forward and told him they were shipwrecked mariners, claiming his hospitality in the name of Zeus. But the fierce monster railed at the great ruler of Olympus, for the lawless Cyclopes knew no fear of the gods, and hardly deigned to reply to the hero's demand. To the consternation of Odysseus, the giant seized two of his companions, dashed them to the ground, and consumed their remains, washing down the ghastly meal with huge draughts of milk. He then stretched his gigantic limbs on the ground and soon fell fast asleep beside the fire.

Thinking this a favorable opportunity to rid himself and his companions of their terrible enemy, Odysseus drew his sword, crept stealthily forward, and was about to slay the giant when he suddenly remembered that the cave's entrance was effectively sealed by the immense rock, making escape impossible. He wisely decided to wait until the following day and set his wits to work to devise a scheme by which he and his companions might escape.

Early next morning, when the giant awoke, he seized and devoured two more companions of the hero, after which Polyphemus leisurely drove out his flock, carefully securing the entrance as before.

Next evening the giant devoured two more victims, and when he had finished his revolting meal, Odysseus stepped forward and presented him with a large measure of wine he had brought from his ship in a goat's skin. Delighted with the delicious beverage, the giant asked the name of the donor. Odysseus replied that his name was Noman, whereupon Polyphemus graciously announced that he would show his gratitude by eating him last.

The monster, thoroughly overcome by the powerful old liquor, soon fell into a heavy sleep, and Odysseus lost no time putting his plans into action. During the day he had cut a large piece of the giant's own olive staff, which he now heated in the fire, and aided by his companions, thrust it into the eye of Polyphemus, effectively blinding him.

The giant made the cave resound with his howls of pain and rage. His cries were heard by his brother Cyclopes, who lived in caves not far distant, and they soon came trooping over the hills from all sides, calling out to ask the cause of his cries and groans. But as his only reply was, "Noman has injured me," they concluded he had played them a trick and abandoned him to his fate.

The blinded giant now groped round his cave in hopes of laying hands on some of his tormentors, but weary at length of these fruitless efforts, he rolled away the rock closing the entrance, thinking his victims would rush out with the sheep, making them easy to capture. Meanwhile Odysseus had not been idle, and the hero's cunning now proved more than a match for the giant's strength. The sheep were very large, and Odysseus, with bands of willow taken from Polyphemus's bed, cleverly linked them together three abreast, and under each center one he secured one of his comrades. After providing for the safety of his companions, Odysseus himself selected the finest ram of the flock and, clinging to its wool, made his escape. As the sheep passed out of the cave, the giant felt carefully among them for his victims, but not finding them on the animals' backs, he let them pass, and thus they all escaped.

They now hastened aboard their vessel, and Odysseus, thinking himself at a safe distance, shouted his real name and mockingly defied the giant. Polyphemus seized a huge rock and, following the direction of the voice, hurled it toward the ship, which narrowly escaped destruction. He then called upon his father Poseidon to avenge him, entreating him to curse Odysseus with a long and tedious voyage, to destroy all his ships and all his companions, and to make his return as late, as unhappy, and as desolate as possible.

FURTHER ADVENTURES

After sailing over unknown seas for some time, the hero and his followers cast anchor at the island of Aeolus, king of the Winds, who welcomed them cordially and entertained them sumptuously for a whole month.

When they took their leave, he gave Odysseus the skin of an ox, into which he had placed all the contrary winds to ensure a safe and speedy voyage. Then, having cautioned him on no account to open it, he caused the gentle Zephyrus to blow so that he might waft them to the shores of Greece.

On the evening of the tenth day after their departure, they arrived in sight of the watch-fires of Ithaca. But here, unfortunately, Odysseus, completely weary, fell asleep, and his comrades, thinking Aeolus had given him a treasure in the bag he so carefully guarded, seized the opportunity to open it. All the adverse winds rushed out and drove them back to the Aeolian island. This time Aeolus did not welcome them as before but dismissed them with bitter reproaches for their disregard of his injunctions.

After a six days' voyage they at length sighted land. Observing what appeared to be smoke from a large town, Odysseus sent a herald with two companions to procure provisions. When they arrived in the city, they discovered to their horror that they had set foot in the land of the Laestrygones, a race of fierce and gigantic cannibals ruled by King Antiphates. The unfortunate herald was seized and killed by the king, but his two companions, who took flight, succeeded in reaching their ship safely and urgently begged their chief to put to sea without delay.

But Antiphates and his fellow giants pursued the fugitives to the shore, where they appeared in large numbers. They seized huge rocks, hurled them at the fleet, sinking eleven ships with all hands; only the vessel commanded directly by Odysseus escaped destruction. In this ship, with his few remaining followers, Odysseus now set sail, but adverse winds drove them to an island called Aeaea.

CIRCE

The hero and his companions were in dire need of provisions, but, warned by previous disasters, Odysseus resolved that only a certain number of the crew should go to reconnoiter the country. When lots were drawn by Odysseus and Eurylochus, the latter was chosen to lead the small band selected for the task.

They soon came to a magnificent marble palace situated in a charming and fertile valley. Here dwelt a beautiful enchantress named Circe, daughter of the sun-god and the sea-nymph Perse. The entrance to her abode was guarded by wolves and lions, which, to the surprise of the strangers, were as tame and harmless as lambs. These were, in fact, human beings who, by the wicked arts of the sorceress, had been transformed. From within, they heard the enchanting voice of the goddess, who was singing a sweet melody as she sat at her work, weaving a web such as immortals alone could produce. She graciously invited them to enter, and all except the prudent Eurylochus accepted.

As they trod the wide halls of tessellated marble, objects of wealth and beauty met their eyes on all sides. The soft couches on which she bade them sit were studded with silver, and the banquet she provided was served in vessels of pure gold. But while her unsuspecting guests abandoned themselves to the pleasures of the table, the wicked enchantress was secretly working their ruin. The wine cup presented to them was drugged with a potent draught, and after partaking, she touched them with her magic wand, and they were immediately transformed into swine, still retaining their human senses.

When Odysseus heard from Eurylochus of the terrible fate of his companions, he set out, regardless of personal danger, determined to rescue them. On his way to the palace of the sorceress, he met a fair youth bearing a wand of gold, who revealed himself as Hermes, the divine messenger of the gods. He gently reproached the hero for venturing into Circe's abode without an antidote against her spells and presented him with a peculiar herb called Moly, assuring him it would counteract the baneful arts of the enchantress. Hermes warned Odysseus that Circe would offer him a draught of drugged wine with the intention of transforming him as she had done his companions. He bade him drink the wine, the effect of which would be completely nullified by the herb, and then rush boldly at the sorceress as though he would take her life; whereupon her power over him would cease, she would recognize her master, and grant him whatever he desired.

Circe received the hero with all the grace and fascination at her command and presented him with a draught of wine in a golden goblet. He readily accepted, trusting in the efficacy of the antidote. Then, obeying Hermes's injunction, he drew his sword and rushed upon the sorceress as though he would slay her.

When Circe found that her fell purpose was for the first time frustrated and that a mortal had dared to attack her, she knew this must be the great Odysseus, whose visit had been foretold to her by Hermes. At his request, she restored his companions to human form, promising that henceforth the hero and his comrades would be free from her enchantments.

But all warnings and past experience were forgotten when Circe began to exercise her fascinations on him. At her request, his companions took up their abode on the island, and he himself became the guest and slave of the enchantress for a whole year, only at the earnest admonition of his friends did he finally free himself from her toils.

Circe had become so attached to the gallant hero that parting was difficult, but having vowed not to use her magic against him, she was powerless to detain him. She warned him that his future would be beset with many dangers and commanded him to consult the blind old seer Tiresias in the realm of Hades concerning his future destiny. She then loaded his ship with provisions and reluctantly bade him farewell.

THE REALM OF SHADES

Though somewhat appalled at the prospect of seeking the weird and gloomy realms inhabited by the spirits of the dead, Odysseus obeyed the goddess, who gave him full directions regarding his course and certain important injunctions to follow strictly.

He set sail with his companions for the dark and gloomy land of the Cimmerians, which lay at the farthest end of the world, beyond the great stream Oceanus. Favored by gentle breezes, they soon reached their destination in the far west. At the spot indicated by Circe, where the turbid waters of the rivers Acheron and Cocytus mingled at the entrance to the lower world, Odysseus landed, unattended by his companions.

Having dug a trench to receive the blood of the sacrifices, he offered a black ram and ewe to the powers of darkness. Crowds of shades rose up from the yawning gulf, clustering around him, eager to drink the blood, which would restore their mental vigor for a time. Mindful of Circe's injunction, Odysseus brandished his sword and let none approach until Tiresias appeared. The great prophet came slowly forward leaning on his golden staff, and after drinking of the sacrifice, imparted to Odysseus the hidden secrets of his future fate. Tiresias warned him of the numerous perils that would assail him, both during his homeward voyage and upon his return to Ithaca, and instructed him how to avoid them.

Meanwhile, many other shades had quaffed the sense-awakening draught, among whom Odysseus recognized, to his dismay, his beloved mother Anticlea. From her he learned that she had died of grief at her son's long absence, and that his aged father Laertes was wasting away with vain and anxious longing for his return. He also spoke with the ill-fated Agamemnon, Patroclus, and Achilles. Achilles bemoaned his shadowy existence, plaintively saying he would rather be the poorest laborer on earth than rule supreme among the dead. Ajax alone, still brooding over his wrongs, held aloof, refusing to converse, and sullenly retired when Odysseus addressed him.

At last so many shades swarmed around him that his courage failed, and he fled in terror back to his ship. Rejoining his companions, they put to sea once more and continued their homeward voyage.

THE SIRENS

After some days' sail, their course took them past the island of the Sirens.

Circe had warned Odysseus not to listen to the seductive melodies of these treacherous nymphs, for all who heard their enticing strains felt an unconquerable desire to leap overboard and join them, perishing either at their hands or in the waves.

To ensure his crew did not hear the Sirens' song, Odysseus filled their ears with melted wax. But the hero himself so loved adventure that he could not resist braving this new danger. By his own request, he was lashed to the mast, and his men were ordered on no account to release him until they were out of sight of the island, no matter how he implored.

As they neared the fatal shore, they beheld the Sirens seated side by side on the verdant slopes. Their sweet and alluring strains so affected the hero that, forgetful of danger, he begged his comrades to release him. But the sailors, obedient to orders, refused until the island had disappeared. Only then did he gratefully acknowledge their firmness, which had saved his life.

THE ISLAND OF HELIOS

They now approached the terrible dangers of Scylla and Charybdis, between which Circe had directed them to pass. As Odysseus steered beneath the great rock, Scylla swooped down and seized six crew members from the deck, and their cries long rang in his ears. At length they reached the island of Trinacria, where the sun-god pastured his flocks. Remembering Tiresias's warning to avoid this sacred island, Odysseus would have sailed past, but his crew mutinied and insisted on landing. Obliged to yield, he made them swear not to touch the sacred herds and to be ready to sail again the next morning.

Unfortunately, bad weather kept them a whole month at Trinacria. The store of wine and food from Circe was exhausted, and they had to subsist on whatever fish and birds the island offered, often not enough to satisfy hunger. One evening, when Odysseus, worn out with anxiety and fatigue, had fallen asleep, Eurylochus persuaded the hungry men to break their vows and kill some of the sacred oxen.

Helios was furious. He caused the hides of the slaughtered animals to creep and the joints on the spits to bellow like living cattle. He threatened that unless Zeus punished the impious crew, he would withdraw his light from the heavens and shine only in Hades. To appease the enraged deity, Zeus assured him that his cause would be avenged. When, after feasting for seven days, Odysseus and his companions set sail again, the ruler of Olympus sent a terrible storm. The ship was struck by lightning and went to pieces. All the crew were drowned except Odysseus, who clung to a mast and floated in the open sea for nine days. After barely escaping being sucked in by Charybdis, he was cast ashore on the island of Ogygia.

CALYPSO

Ogygia was an island covered with dense forests. In the midst of a grove of cypress and poplar stood the charming grotto-palace of the nymph Calypso, daughter of the Titan Atlas. The entrance was entwined with leafy vine branches from which hung clusters of purple and golden grapes. The splashing of fountains gave a delicious coolness to the air, filled with the songs of birds, and the ground was carpeted with violets and mosses.

Calypso cordially welcomed the forlorn shipwrecked hero and hospitably ministered to his needs. In time she became so attached to him that she offered him immortality and eternal youth if he would stay with her forever. But Odysseus's heart yearned for his beloved wife Penelope and his young son. He refused the boon and earnestly begged the gods to allow him to return home. Yet the curse of Poseidon still followed him, and for seven long years he was detained on the island against his will.

At last Pallas-Athene interceded with her mighty father on his behalf. Zeus yielded and sent the fleet-footed Hermes to command Calypso to let Odysseus depart and provide him with means of transport.

The goddess, loath to part with her guest, dared not disobey Zeus. She instructed the hero to build a raft, and she herself wove the sails. Odysseus bade her farewell and, alone and unaided, embarked on the frail craft for his native land.

NAUSICAA

For seventeen days Odysseus skillfully piloted the raft through all perils, guided by the stars and following Calypso's directions. On the eighteenth day he joyfully hailed the distant outline of the Phaeacian coast, looking forward to temporary rest and shelter. But Poseidon, still enraged at the man who had blinded and insulted his son, sent a terrible tempest that swamped the raft. Odysseus barely saved himself by clinging to a piece of wreckage.

For two days and nights he drifted, tossed by angry waves, until at last the sea-goddess Leucothea came to his aid, and he was cast ashore on Scheria, the island of the luxurious Phaeacians. Worn out, he crept into a thicket for safety, lay down on a bed of dried leaves, and soon fell fast asleep.

It happened that Nausicaa, the beautiful daughter of King Alcinous and Queen Arete, had come to the shore with her maidens to wash linen destined for her marriage portion. After finishing, they bathed, enjoyed a meal, and amused themselves singing and playing ball.

Their joyous shouts woke Odysseus. Rising from his hiding place, he found himself suddenly among the happy group. Alarmed at his wild appearance, the attendants fled in terror. But the princess, pitying the forlorn stranger, spoke kind and sympathetic words. After hearing his story, she called back her maidens, scolded them for their lack of courtesy, and ordered them to give him food, drink, and suitable clothing. While he bathed and dressed, Athene endowed him with a commanding stature and more than mortal beauty. When he reappeared, the princess was struck with admiration and invited him to visit her father's palace. She then had her attendants yoke the mules and prepare to return home.

Odysseus was cordially received by the king and queen, who entertained him magnificently. In gratitude, he related his long and eventful voyage, with all its adventures and miraculous escapes since leaving Troy.

When at last he took leave, Alcinous loaded him with rich gifts and ordered one of his own ships to convey him to Ithaca.

ARRIVAL AT ITHACA

The voyage was short and prosperous. By the king's direction, rich furs were laid on deck for the guest, and Odysseus, leaving the ship's guidance to the Phaeacian sailors, soon fell into a deep sleep. When the vessel arrived in Ithaca's harbor the next morning, the sailors, thinking such a profound slumber must be sent by the gods, carried him ashore without waking him and placed him gently under the shade of an olive tree.

When Odysseus awoke, he did not know where he was, for his protectress Pallas-Athene had enveloped him in a thick cloud. She appeared to him in the guise of a shepherd and told him he was in his native land; that his father Laertes, bent with sorrow and age, had withdrawn from court; that his son Telemachus had grown to manhood and gone to seek news of his father; and that his wife Penelope was harassed by numerous suitors who had taken over his home and devoured his substance. To gain time, Penelope had promised to marry one of her suitors as soon as she finished weaving a robe for old Laertes, but she secretly undid at night what she had woven by day, thus delaying completion. Just as Odysseus arrived, the suitors discovered her trick and grew more clamorous. When he learned this was truly his homeland, which after twenty years the gods had allowed him to see again, he threw himself on the ground and kissed it in an ecstasy of joy.

The goddess, who had revealed her identity, helped him hide the Phaeacian gifts in a nearby cave. Then, sitting with him, she planned how to rid his palace of the shameless suitors.

To prevent recognition, she changed his appearance into that of an aged beggar. His limbs became feeble, his hair vanished, his eyes grew dim, and his royal robes became a tattered, dingy garment. She then directed him to seek shelter in the hut of Eumaeus, his own swineherd.

Eumaeus received the old beggar hospitably, provided for his needs, and confided his distress at his master's long absence and his regret at being forced to slaughter the finest hogs for the unruly invaders.

The next morning, Telemachus returned from his fruitless search and went first to Eumaeus's hut, where he heard the beggar's story and promised to befriend him. Athene urged Odysseus to reveal himself to his son. At her touch, his rags disappeared, and he stood before Telemachus in royal robes and full manly vigor. So majestic was his appearance that the young prince thought he might be a god, but when convinced it was truly his father, he embraced him with joyful affection.

Odysseus charged Telemachus to keep his return secret and devised a plan to rid themselves of the suitors. Telemachus was to persuade his mother to promise her hand to whichever suitor could string Odysseus's great bow and shoot an arrow through twelve rings, a feat only Odysseus had performed.

Odysseus resumed his beggar's disguise and accompanied his son to the palace. Before the door lay his faithful dog Argo, who, though worn and feeble, recognized his master and made a last effort to welcome him, then expired at his feet.

Inside, the suitors mocked and reviled him; Antinous, the most shameless, ridiculed his appearance and ordered him away. But Penelope, hearing of their cruelty, sent for the beggar and spoke kindly, asking who he was. He told her he was the brother of the king of Crete and had seen Odysseus, who was about to start for Ithaca and intended to arrive before year's end. Overjoyed, she ordered her maids to make him comfortable and asked the old nurse Euryclea to attend to his needs.

As Euryclea bathed his feet, her eyes fell upon a scar Odysseus had received in youth from a wild boar's tusk. Instantly recognizing the master she had nursed as a babe, she would have cried aloud for joy, but the hero pressed his hand over her mouth and implored her not to betray him.

The next day was a festival of Apollo, and the suitors feasted with more than usual revelry. After the banquet, Penelope brought down the great bow and declared that the suitor who could bend it and send an arrow through twelve rings would become her husband.

All tried but failed; none had the strength. Then Odysseus stepped forward and asked to try, but the haughty nobles mocked him. Only when Telemachus interfered were they allowed to let the beggar attempt it. He took the bow, easily sent an arrow through the rings, and then turned to Antinous, who was raising a goblet, and pierced him to the heart. The suitors sprang up seeking arms, but Telemachus had previously removed them. Father and son attacked the rioters, and after a fierce fight, not one survived.

When Penelope heard the news, she came down but refused to recognize the aged beggar as her husband. Odysseus then bathed and emerged in all the beauty Athene had given him at Alcinous's court. Still uncertain, Penelope devised a test. She commanded that his own bed be brought from his chamber. But the bed had been built by Odysseus around the rooted trunk of an olive tree, and it could not be moved. When the beggar declared that no mortal could stir it, she knew he must be Odysseus. A touching reunion followed between the long-separated husband and wife.

The next day, Odysseus sought his father Laertes, who was digging up a young olive tree on his estate. The old man, dressed as a laborer, bore traces of deep grief. So shocked was his son at the change that he turned aside to hide his tears.

When Odysseus revealed himself, Laertes's joy was overwhelming. With loving care, Odysseus led him into the house, where the old man resumed his royal robes and thanked the gods for this unexpected happiness.

But peace was not yet his, for the friends and relatives of the suitors rebelled and pursued him to his father's home. The struggle was brief; after a short contest, negotiations began, and the people, recognizing the justice of his cause, were reconciled to their king. Odysseus reigned over them for many years.