Now through the city meantime swiftly ran The rumor that the suitors all had met A bloody death. No sooner had men heard The tidings than they came with cries and moans Before the palace, moving to and fro. Each carried forth his dead, and gave to each His funeral rites, except to those who came From distant cities; these they put on board Swift-sailing galleys of the fishermen, That they might bear them home. And then they came Sorrowing together in the marketplace. There, when the assembly now was full, arose Eupeithes and addressed them. In his heart Was sorrow, that could never be consoled, For his slain son Antinoüs, who was first To fall before Ulysses. Weeping rose The father, and harangued the assembly thus:—
“Great things, indeed, my friends, hath this man done For us Achaians. Many valiant men He gathered in his ships and led abroad, And lost his gallant ships, and lost his men; And now, returning, he has put to death The best of all the Cephallenian race.
Come, then, and ere he find a safe retreat In Pylos, or in hallowed Elis, where The Epeians rule, pursue him; endless shame Will be our portion else, and they who live In future years will hear of our disgrace.
If we avenge not on these men of blood The murder of our sons and brothers, life Will not be sweet to me, and I would go At once, and gladly, down among the dead. Rise, then, and fall upon them ere they flee.”
So spake he, weeping; and the Greeks were moved With pity as they heard him. Now appeared The herald Medon and the sacred bard, As, rising from the sleep of night, they left The palace of Ulysses. They stood forth Amid the multitude, who all beheld With wonder. Then sagacious Medon spake:—