As they spoke,
Argos, the dog that lay there, raised his head
and ears. Odysseus had trained this dog
but with no benefit—he left too soon
to march on holy Troy. The master gone,
boys took the puppy out to hunt wild goats
and deer and hares. But now he lay neglected,
without an owner, in a pile of dung
from mules and cows—the slaves stored heaps of it
outside the door, until they fertilized
the large estate. So Argos lay there dirty, 300
covered with fleas. And when he realized
Odysseus was near, he wagged his tail,
and both his ears dropped back. He was too weak
to move towards his master. At a distance,
Odysseus had noticed, and he wiped
his tears away and hid them easily,
and said,
“Eumaeus, it is strange this dog
is lying in the dung; he looks quite handsome,
though it is hard to tell if he can run,
or if he is a pet, a table dog,
kept just for looks.”
Eumaeus, you replied,
“This dog belonged to someone who has died
in foreign lands. If he were in good health,
as when Odysseus abandoned him
and went to Troy, you soon would see how quick
and brave he used to be. He went to hunt
in woodland, and he always caught his prey.
His nose was marvelous. But now he is
in bad condition, with his master gone,
long dead. The women fail to care for him.
Slaves do not want to do their proper work,
when masters are not watching them. Zeus halves
our value on the day that makes us slaves.”
With that, the swineherd went inside the palace,
to join the noble suitors. Twenty years
had passed since Argos saw Odysseus,
and now he saw him for the final time—
then suddenly, black death took hold of him. 查看上级评论详情 >>>
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