Notes

SET THE SCENE

Scene 1

Narrator 1: "T wast a still night in sparta, lacedaemon and the gentle h'ro's son did lie in waketh as the bright eyes goddess wenteth to sweaty haste that gent on his way to his journey backeth home."

Athena enters a room where Telemachus and Pistastrautus is sleeping and walks to Telemachaus

Athena: " Tell Menelaus to bring you back home before your mom marries Eurymachus and take all your wealth. Oh, and when you reach home those Suitors will try to kill you so go round back and tell your mom your safe, first.

Athena leaves the room and Telemachaus wakes Pitastrautus up

Telemachaus: "let's leave"

Pistastrautus: "Just wait until the morning and when they give us their gifts and sees us off like
princes."

End Scene

Scene 2


Menelaus: " Don't worry, I wont keep you for too long, but just ___________________________, after all I don't want to be to mean or too kind. Balance is best in all things is what I always say.
The lord of the warcry reassured the prince,
“I’d never detain you here too long, Telemachus,
not if your heart is set on going home.
I’d find fault with another host, I’m sure,
too warm to his guests, too pressing or too cold.
Balance is best in all things. It’s bad either way,
spurring the stranger home who wants to linger,
holding the one who longs to leave—you know,
‘Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest!’
But wait till I load your chariot down with gifts—
fine ones, too, you’ll see with your own eyes—
and tell the maids to serve a meal at hall.
We have god’s plenty here.
It’s honor and glory to us, a help to you as well,
if you dine in style first, then leave to see the world.
And if you’re keen for the grand tour of all Hellas,
right to the depths of Argos, I’ll escort you myself,
harness the horses, guide you through the towns.
And no host will turn us away with empty hands,
each will give us at least one gift to prize—
a handsome tripod, cauldron forged in bronze,
a brace of mules or a solid golden cup.”
Firmly resolved, Telemachus replied,
“Menelaus, royal Atrides, captain of armies,
I must go back to my own home at once.
When I started out I left no one behind
to guard my own possessions. God forbid,
searching for my great father, I lose my life
or lose some priceless treasure from my house!”
As soon as the lord of the warcry heard that,
he told his wife and serving-women to lay out a meal
in the hall at once. They’d stores aplenty there.
Eteoneus, son of Boethous, came to join them—
fresh from bed, he lived close by the palace.
The warlord Menelaus told him to build a fire
and broil some meat. He quickly did his bidding.
Down Atrides walked to a storeroom filled with scent,
and not alone: Helen and Megapenthes went along.
Reaching the spot where all the heirlooms lay,
Menelaus chose a generous two-handled cup;
he told his son Megapenthes to take a mixing-bowl,
solid silver, while Helen lingered beside the chests,
and there they were, brocaded, beautiful robes
her own hands had woven. Queenly Helen,
radiance of women, lifted one from the lot,
the largest, loveliest robe, and richly worked
and like a star it glistened, deep beneath the others.
Then all three went up and on through the halls until
they found Telemachus. The red-haired king spoke out:
“Oh my boy, may Zeus the Thunderer, Hera’s lord,
grant you the journey home your heart desires!
Of all the treasures lying heaped in my palace
you shall have the finest, most esteemed. Look,
I’ll give you this mixing-bowl, forged to perfection—
it’s solid silver finished off with a lip of gold.
Hephaestus made it himself. And a royal friend,
Phaedimus, king of Sidon, lavished it on me
when his palace welcomed me on passage home.
How pleased I’d be if you took it as a gift!”
And the warlord placed the two-eared cup
in his hands while stalwart Megapenthes carried in
the glittering silver bowl and set it down before him.
Helen, her cheeks flushed with beauty, moved beside him,
holding the robe in her arms, and offered, warmly,
“Here, dear boy, I too have a gift to give you,
a keepsake of Helen—I wove it with my hands—
for your own bride to wear
when the blissful day of marriage dawns …
Until then, let it rest in your mother’s room.
And may you return in joy—my parting wish—
to your own grand house, your native land at last.”
With that
she laid the robe in his arms, and he received it gladly.
Prince Pisistratus, taking the gifts, stowed them deep
in the chariot cradle, viewed them all with wonder.
The red-haired warlord led them back to his house
and the guests took seats on low and high-backed chairs.
A maid brought water soon in a graceful golden pitcher
and over a silver basin tipped it out
so they might rinse their hands,
then pulled a gleaming table to their side.
A staid housekeeper brought on bread to serve them,
appetizers aplenty too, lavish with her bounty.
Ready Eteoneus carved and passed the meat,
the son of illustrious Menelaus poured their wine.
They reached out for the good things that lay at hand
and once they’d put aside desire for food and drink,