stranger, if he bends the great bow of Ulysses, confident in
his skill and strength of arm, will lead me home and take me for his wife?
He in his inmost soul imagines no such thing. Let none of you sit at the
table disturbed by such a thought; for that could never, never, be!"

Then answered her Eurymachus, the son of Polybus, "Daughter of Icarius,
heedful Penelope, we do not think the man will marry you. Of course that
could not be. And yet we dread the talk of men and women, and fear that
one of the baser sort of the Achaians say,'Men far inferior sue for a good
man's wife, and cannot bend his polished bow. But somebody else--a
wandering beggar--came, and easily bent the bow and sent an arrow through
the steel.' This they will say, to us a shame indeed."

Then said to him heedful Penelope, "Eurymachus, men cannot be in honor in
the land and rudely rob the household of their prince. Why, then, count
this a shame? The stranger is right tall, and well-knit too, and calls
himself the son of a good father. Give him the polished bow, and let us
see. For this I tell you, and it shall be done: if he shall bend it and
Apollo grants his prayer, I will clothe him in a coat and tunic, goodly
garments, give him a pointed spear to keep off dogs and men, a two-edged
sword, and sandals for his feet, and I will send him where his heart and
soul may bid him go."

Then answered her discreet Telemachus, "My mother, no Achaian has better
right than I to give or to refuse the bow to any as I will. And out of all
who rule in rocky Ithaca, or in the islands off toward grazing Elis, none
may oppose my will, even if I wished to put the bows into the stranger's
hands and let him take them once for all away. Then seek your chamber and
attend to matters of your own,--the loom, the distaff,--and bid the women
ply their tasks. Bows are for men, for all, especially for me; for power
within this house rests here."

Amazed, she turned to her own room again, for the wise saying of her son
she laid to heart. And coming to the upper chamber with her maids, she
there bewailed Ulysses, her dear husband, till on her lids clear-eyed
Athene caused a sweet sleep to fall.

Meanwhile the noble swineherd, taking the curved bow, was bearing it away.
But the suitors all broke into uproar in the hall, and a rude youth would
say, "Where are you carrying the curved bow, you miserable swineherd?
Crazy fool! Soon out among the swine, away from men, swift dogs shall e