(Russian 1783-1873)

Odysseus Slaying the Suitors of Penelope, inscribed, signed, and dated lower right in Cyrillic 1820, Saint Petersburg, gilt bronze relief plaque, 9-5/8 x 5-3/4 in.; wood frame 7-1/2 x 11-3/8 x 3/4 in.

Provenance: Private Collection

Note: The scene in relief here is taken from book 22 of The Odyssey, in which Odysseus and his son Telemachus slay the men who have been squatting in their palace and trying to force Penelope, Odysseus' loyal wife and Telemachus' mother, into marriage. The portion of the epic in question, as translated by Robert Fagles, reads as follows; 

With that he trained a stabbing arrow on Antinous.. just lifting a gorgeous golden loving cup in his hands, just tilting the two-handled goblet back to his lips, about to drain the wine-and slaughter the last thing on the suitor's mind: who could dream that one foe in that crowd of feasters, however great his power, would bring down death on himself, and black doom? But Odysseus aimed and shot Antinous square in the throat and the point went stabbing clean through the soft neck and out-and off to the side he pitched, the cup dropped from his grasp as the shaft sank home, and the man’s life-blood came spurting out his nostrils-thick red jets-a sudden thrust of his foot-he kicked away the table-food showered across the floor, the bread and meats soaked in a swirl of bloody filth. The suitors burst into uproar all throughout the house when they saw their leader down. They leapt from their seats, milling about, desperate, scanning the stone walls-not a shield in sight, no rugged spear to seize. They wheeled on Odysseus, lashing out in fury: "Stranger, shooting at men will cost your life!" "Your game is over-you, you’ve shot your last!" "You’ll never escape your own headlong death!" "You killed the best in Ithaca-our fine prince!" "Vultures will eat your corpse!" Groping, frantic- each one persuading himself the guest had killed the man by chance. Poor fools, blind to the fact that all their necks were in the noose, their doom sealed. With a dark look, the wily fighter Odysseus shouted back, "You dogs! You never imagined I’d return from Troy- so cocksure that you bled my house to death, ravished my serving-women-wooed my wife behind my back while I was still alive! No fear of the gods who rule the skies up there, no fear that men’s revenge might arrive someday- now all your necks are in the noose-your doom is sealed!" Terror gripped them all, blanched their faces white, each man glancing wildly-how to escape his instant death? Only Eurymachus had the breath to venture, "If you, you’re truly Odysseus of Ithaca, home at last, you’re right to accuse these men of what they’ve done- so much reckless outrage here in your palace, so much on your lands. But here he lies, quite dead, and he incited it all-Antinous-look, the man who drove us all to crime! Not that he needed marriage, craved it so; he’d bigger game in mind-though Zeus barred his way-he’d lord it over Ithaca’s handsome country, king himself, once he’d lain in wait for your son and cut him down! But now he’s received the death that he deserved. So spare your own people! Later we’ll recoup your costs with a tax laid down upon the land, covering all we ate and drank inside your halls, and each of us here will pay full measure too- twenty oxen in value, bronze and gold we’ll give until we melt your heart. Before we’ve settled, who on earth could blame you for your rage?" But the battle-master kept on glaring, seething. “No, Eurymachus! Not if you paid me all your father's wealth- all you possess now, and all that could pour in from the world’s end-no, not even then would I stay my hands from slaughter till all you suitors had paid for all your crimes! Now life or death-your choice-fight me or flee if you hope to escape your sudden bloody doom! I doubt one man in the lot will save his skin!"