XIII.  The Chorus Line: The Wily Sea Captain, A Sea Shanty

Performed by the Twelve Maids, in Sailor Costumes

Oh wily Odysseus he set out from Troy,

With his boat full of loot and his heart full of joy,

For he was Athene’s own shiny-eyed boy,

With his lies and his tricks and his thieving!

His first port of call was the sweet Lotus shore

Where we sailors did long to forget the foul war;

But we soon were hauled off on the black ships once more,

Although we were pining and grieving.

To the dread one-eyed Cyclops then next did ,

He wanted to eat us so we put out his ey

Our lad said, ‘I’m No One,’ but then bragged, ’twas I,

Odysseus, the prince of deceiving!’

So there’s a curse on his head from Poseic his foe,

That is dogging his heels as he sails to fro,

And a big bag of wind that will boisteroi blow

Odysseus, the saltiest seaman!

Here’s a health to our Captain, so gallant and free,

Whether stuck on a rock or asleep ‘neath a tree

Or rolled in the arms of some nymph of the Si

Which is where we would all like to be, man!

The vile Laestrygonians then we did meet,

Who dined on our men from their brains to their feet;

He was sorry he’d asked them for something to eat,

Odysseus, that epical he-man!

On the island of Circe we were turned into swine,

Till Odysseus bedded the goddess so fine,

Then he ate up her cakes and he drank up her wine,

For a year he became her blithe lodger!

So a health to our Captain where ever he may roam,

Tossed here and tossed there on the wide ocean’s foam,

And he’s in no hurry to ever get home

Odysseus, that crafty old codger!

To the Isle of the Dead then he next took his way,

Filled a trench up with blood, held the spirits at bay,

Till he learned what Teiresias, the seer, had to say,

 Odysseus, the artfullest dodger!

The Sirens’ sweet singing then next he did brave,

They attempted to lure him to a feathery grave,

While tied to the mast he did rant and did rave,

But Odysseus alone learned their riddle!

The whirlpool Charybdis did not our lad catch,

Nor snake-headed Scylla, she could not him snatch,

Then he ran the fell rocks that would grind you to scratch,

For their clashing he gave not a piddle!

We men did a bad turn against his command,

When we ate the Sun’s cattle, they sure tasted grand,

In a storm we all perished, but our Captain reached land,

On the isle of the goddess Calypso.

After seven long years there of kissing and woo,

He escaped on a raft that was drove to and fro,

Till fair Nausicaa’s maids that the laundry did do,

Found him bare on the beach—he did drip so!

Then he told his adventures and laid to his store

A hundred disasters and sufferings galore,

For no one can tell what the Fates have in store,

Not Odysseus, that master disguiser!

So a health to our Captain, where ever he may be

Whether walking the earth or adrift on the sea

For he’s not down in Hades, unlike all of we

And we leave you not any the wiser!

XIV.  The Suitors Stuff Their Faces

I was wandering in the fields the other day, if it was a day, nibbling on some asphodel, when I ran into Antinous. He usually struts about in his finest cloak and his best robe, gold brooches and all, looking belligerent and haughty, and shouldering aside the other spirits; but as soon as he sees me he assumes the guise of his own corpse, with blood spurting all down his front and an arrow through his neck.

He was the first of the Suitors that Odysseus shot. This performance of his with the arrow is meant as a reproach, or so he intends it, but it doesn’t cut any ice with me. The man was a pest when he was alive, and a pest he remains.

‘Greetings, Antinous,’ I said to him. ‘I wish you’d take that arrow out of your neck.’

‘It is the arrow of my love, Penelope of the divine form, fairest and most intelligent of all women,’ he replied. ‘Although it came from the renowned bow of Odysseus, in reality the cruel archer was Cupid himself. I carry it in remembrance of the great passion I bore for you, and carried to my grave.’ He goes on in this.spurious way quite a lot, having had a good deal of practice at it while he was alive.

‘Come now, Antinous,’ I said. ‘We’re dead now. You don’t have to blather on in this fatuous manner down here you have nothing to gain by it. There’s no need for your trademark hypocrisy. So be a good fellow for once and eject the arrow. It does nothing to improve your appearance.’

He gazed at me lugubriously, with eyes like a whipped spaniel’s. ‘Merciless in life, merciless in death,’ he sighed. But the arrow vanished and the blood disappeared, and his greenish-white complexion returned to normal.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘That’s better. Now we can be friends, and as a friend you can tell me why did you Suitors risk your lives by acting in such an outrageous way towards me, and towards Odysseus, not once but for years and years? It’s not that you weren’t warned. Prophets foretold your doom, and Zeus himself sent bird portents and significant thunderings.’

Antinous sighed. ‘The gods wanted to destroy us,’ he said.

‘That’s everyone’s excuse for behaving badly,’ I said. ‘Tell me the truth. It was hardly my divine beauty. I was thirty-five years old by the end of it, worn out with care and weeping, and as we both know I was getting quite fat around the middle. You Suitors weren’t born when Odysseus set out for Troy, or else you were mere babies like my son, Telemachus, or you were children at the very most, so for all practical purposes I was old enough to be your mother. You babbled on about how I made your knees melt and how you longed to have me share your bed and bear your children, yet you knew perfectly well that I was all but past child-bearing age.’

‘You could probably have still squeezed out one or two little brats,’ Antinous replied nastily. He could barely suppress a smirk.

‘That’s more like it,’ I said. ‘I prefer straightforward answers. So, what was your real motive?’

‘We wanted the treasure trove, naturally,’ he said. ‘Not to mention the kingdom.’ This time he had the impudence to laugh outright. ‘What young man wouldn’t want to marry a rich and famous widow? Widows are supposed to be consumed with lust, especially if their husbands have been missing or dead for such a long time, as yours was. You weren’t exactly a Helen, but we could have dealt with that. The darkness conceals much! All the better that you were twenty years older than us you’d die first, perhaps with a little help, and then, furnished with your wealth, we could have had our pick of any young and beautiful princess we wanted. You didn’t really think we were maddened by love for you, did you? You may not have been much to look at, but you were always intelligent.’

I’d said I preferred straightforward answers, but of course nobody does, not when the answers are so unflattering. ‘Thank you for your frankness,’ I said coldly. ‘It must be a relief to you to express your real feelings for once. You can put the arrow back now. To tell you the truth, I feel a surge of joy every time I see it sticking through your lying, gluttonous neck.’