No More Learning

Up went his dog's laid ears, coming near,
Up he himself rose, fawned, and wagged his stern,
Couch'd close his ears, and lay so; nor discern
Could ever more his dear-loved lord again.
Ulysses saw it, nor had power t'abstain From
shedding tears; but (far-off seeing his swain)
His grief dissembled. . . . Then they entered in
And left poor Argus dead; his lord's first sight
Since that time twenty years bereft his sight.

Telemachus welcomed the wayworn suppliant; the feasting Wooers, too,
sent him portions of meat, save Antinous, who

Rapt up a stool, with which he smit
The king's right shoulder, 'twixt his neck and it.
He stood him like a rock. Antinous' dart
Stirred not Ulysses, who in his great heart
Deep ills projected.

The very Wooers were wroth. Which clamour Penelope hearing, she sent
for Eumaeus, and bade him summon the stranger to her; but he would
not come till evening, by reason of the suitors, from whom he had
discourteous treatment.

Now Ulysses coming to Penelope, did not discover himself, but told
her made-up tales of his doings; as, how he had seen Ulysses, and of
a robe he had worn which Penelope knew for one she had given him; so
that she gave credence to his words. Then she bade call the ancient
nurse Euryclea, that she might wash the stranger's feet. But by a scar
he came to be discovered by the aged dame. Her he charged with silence
and to let no ear in all the court more know his being there.
As for
Penelope, she told him of her intent to promise herself to the man who
could wield Ulysses' bow, knowing well that none had the strength and
skill.


_IV. --Of the Doom of the Suitors_

On the morrow came Penelope to the Wooers, bearing the bow of her lord.

Her maids on both sides stood; and thus she spake:
"Hear me, ye Wooers, that a pleasure take
To do me sorrow, and my house invade
To eat and drink, as if 'twere only made
To serve your rapines, striving who shall frame
Me for his wife. And since 'tis made a game,
I here propose divine Ulysses' bow
For that great master-piece, to which ye row.
He that can draw it with least show to strive,
And through these twelve axe-heads an arrow drive,
Him will I follow, and this house forego. "
Whereat the herd Eumaeus wept for woe.

Then Telemachus set up the axe-heads, and himself made vain essay, the
more to tempt the Wooers. And while they after him strove all vainly,
Ulysses went out and bespake Eumaeus and another herd, Philoetius.

"I am your lord; through many a sufferance tried
Arrived now here, whom twenty years have held
Forth from my home. Of all the company
Now serving here besides, not one but you
Mine ear hath witnessed willing to bestow
Their wishes of my life, so long held dead.
The curious Wooers will by no means give
The offer of the bow and arrow leave
To come at me; spite then their pride, do thou,
My good Eumaeus, bring both shaft and bow
To my hands' proof; and charge the maids before
That instantly they shut the door.
Do thou, Philoetius, keep their closure fast. "

Then Ulysses claiming to make trial of the bow, the Wooers would have
denied him; but Penelope would not; whereas Telemachus made a vow that
it was for himself and none other to decide, and the guest should make
trial. But he, handling it while they mocked, with ease

Drew the bow round. Then twanged he up the string,
That as a swallow in the air doth sing,
So sharp the string sung when he gave it touch,
Once having bent and drawn it.