Odyssey 4.151 · Book 4, lines 151–154
A bitter tear behind the cloak
Read the full text in our reader
καὶ νῦν ἦ τοι ἐγὼ μεμνημένος ἀμφʼ Ὀδυσῆι μυθεόμην, ὅσα κεῖνος ὀιζύσας ἐμόγησεν ἀμφʼ ἐμοί, αὐτὰρ ὁ πικρὸν ὑπʼ ὀφρύσι δάκρυον εἶβε, χλαῖναν πορφυρέην ἄντʼ ὀφθαλμοῖιν ἀνασχών.
And now indeed, remembering Odysseus, I was telling all that he in his misery toiled through for my sake; but he let fall a bitter tear from under his brows, holding his purple cloak up before his eyes.
Word by word
The setting
Menelaus has been recalling aloud how he loved Odysseus and grieves that no word of him has come. He finishes by naming the friend he was mourning — not knowing that friend's son sits before him. The young stranger, hearing his father praised, breaks down.
A note on this passage
The speech closes and the body answers. Menelaus, still not knowing his guest, rounds off his lament for Odysseus — 'all that he suffered for my sake' — and the boy across the table cannot hold himself. He lifts his fine cloak to hide his eyes, and the tear escapes anyway. The poem lets grief arrive before recognition does.
The hidden detail is the cloak. Telemachus reaches for the purple mantle — a guest-gift's finery — to cover exactly what it cannot cover. Homer keeps the young man silent here; his father's name does the speaking, and the veil he raises is the surest sign of who he is. Menelaus will read it in the next breath.
Read the full commentary — and tap any word for its dictionary entry — in the interlinear reader.
Open Odyssey 4.151 in the full reader
Always open passages in the reader
From the Great Library
You are reading a page of the Odyssey — the whole book is free in our interlinear reader.
The Great Library Project presses the classics in their original languages, glossed word by word — free to read, always. Browse the whole library.
Also on our shelves:
Odyssey 4.151 — The Great Library Project interlinear edition · greatlibraryproject.com/book/odyssey/4.151/