No fair report, Eurymachus, attends
Their names or can, who, riotous as ye,
The house dishonour, and consume the wealth
Of such a Chief. Why shame ye thus yourselves?
The guest is of athletic frame, well form’d,
And large of limb; he boasts him also sprung
From noble ancestry. Come then—consent—
Give him the bow, that we may see the proof;
For thus I say, and thus will I perform;
Sure as he bends it, and Apollo gives
To him that glory, tunic fair and cloak
Shall be his meed from me, a javelin keen
To guard him against men and dogs, a sword
Of double edge, and sandals for his feet,
And I will send him whither most he would.
Mother—the bow is mine; and, save myself,
No Greek hath right to give it, or refuse.
None who in rock-bound Ithaca possess
Dominion, none in the steed-pastured isles
Of Elis, if I chose to make the bow
His own for ever, should that choice controul.
But thou into the house repairing, ply
Spindle and loom, thy province, and enjoin
Diligence to thy maidens; for the bow
Is man’s concern alone, and shall be mine
Especially, since I am master here.
Reposing of her son deep in her heart,
Withdrew; then mounting with her female train
To her superior chamber, there she wept
Her lost Ulysses, till Minerva bathed
With balmy dews of sleep her weary lids.
And now the noble swine-herd bore the bow
Toward Ulysses, but with one voice all
The suitors, clamorous, reproved the deed,
Of whom a youth, thus, insolent exclaim’d.
Delirious wretch? the hounds that thou hast train’d
Shall eat thee at thy solitary home
Ere long, let but Apollo prove, at last,
Propitious to us, and the Pow’rs of heav’n.
Where erst it stood, terrified at the sound
Of such loud menaces; on the other side
Telemachus as loud assail’d his ear.
That thou obey’dst the many. I will else
With huge stones drive thee, younger as I am
Back to the field. My strength surpasses thine.
I would to heav’n that I in force excell’d
As far, and prowess, every suitor here!
So would I soon give rude dismission hence
To some, who live but to imagine harm.
And, for their sake, in part their wrath resign’d
Against Telemachus; then through the hall
Eumaeus bore, and to Ulysses’ hand
Consign’d the bow; next, summoning abroad
The ancient nurse, he gave her thus in charge.
Sage Euryclea! that thou key secure
The doors; and should you hear, perchance, a groan
Or other noise made by the Princes shut
Within the hall, let none look, curious, forth,
But each in quietness pursue her work.
But she, incontinent, shut fast the doors.
Then, noiseless, sprang Philœtius forth, who closed
The portals also of the palace-court.
A ship-rope of Ægyptian reed, it chanced,
Lay in the vestibule; with that he braced
The doors securely, and re-entring fill’d
Again his seat, but watchful, eyed his Lord.
He, now, assaying with his hand the bow,
Made curious trial of it ev’ry way,
And turn’d it on all sides, lest haply worms
Had in its master’s absence drill’d the horn.
Then thus a suitor to his next remark’d.
In bows, and steals them; or perhaps, at home,
Hath such himself, or feels a strong desire
To make them; so inquisitive the rogue
Adept in mischief, shifts it to and fro!
I wish him like prosperity in all
His efforts, as attends his effort made
On this same bow, which he shall never bend.
Had made his hand familiar with the bow
Poising it and examining—at once—
As when in harp and song adept, a bard
Unlab’ring strains the chord to a new lyre,
The twisted