He stood upon the poop of the ship, and saw the light from the burning
vessels gleam on the Wanderer's golden helm. Then of a sudden he drew a
mighty bow and loosed an arrow charged with death.
"This gift to the Ghost of Paris from Telegonus, son of Circe and of
Odysseus, who was Paris' foe," he cried with a loud voice.
And as he cried it, and as the fateful words struck on the ears of
Odysseus and the ears of Helen, the shaft, pointed by the Gods, rushed
on. It rushed on, it smote the Wanderer with a deadly wound where the
golden body-plate of his harness joined the taslets, and pierced him
through. Then he knew that his fate was accomplished, and that death
came upon him from the water, as the ghost of Tiresias in Hades had
foretold. In his pain, for the last time of all, he let fall his shield
and the black bow of Eurytus. With one hand he clasped the rail of the
chariot and the other he threw about the neck of the Golden Helen, who
bent beneath his weight like a lily before the storm. Then he also cried
aloud in answer:
"Oh, Telegonus, son of Circe, what wickedness hast thou wrought before
the awful Gods that this curse should have been laid upon thee to slay
him who begat thee? Hearken, thou son of Circe, I am not Paris, I am
Odysseus of Ithaca, who begat thee, and thou hast brought my death upon
me from the water, as the Ghost foretold.
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