t in that form as
they might know him; and Eurymachus, incensed, snatched a massy cup
which stood on a table near, and hurled it at the head of the supposed
beggar, and but narrowly missed the hitting of him; and all the
suitors rose, as at once, to thrust him out of the hall, which they
said his beggarly presence and his rude speeches had profaned. But
Telemachus cried to them to forbear, and not to presume to lay hands
upon a wretched man to whom he had promised protection. He asked if
they were mad, to mix such abhorred uproar with his feasts. He bade
them take their food and their wine, to sit up or to go to bed at
their free pleasures, so long as he should give licence to that
freedom; but why should they abuse his banquet, or let the words which
a poor beggar spake have power to move their spleens so fiercely?

They bit their lips and frowned for anger, to be checked so by a
youth; nevertheless for that time they had the grace to abstain,
either for shame, or that Minerva had infused into them a terror of
Ulysses's son.

So that day's feast was concluded without bloodshed, and the suitors,
tired with their sports, departed severally each man to his apartment.
Only Ulysses and Telemachus remained. And now Telemachus, by his
father's direction went and brought down into the hall armour and
lances from the armoury: for Ulysses said, "On the morrow we shall
have need of them." And moreover he said, "If any one shall ask why
you have taken them down, say, it is to clean them and scour them from
the rust which they have gathered since the owner of this house went
for Troy." And as Telemachus stood by the armour, the lights were all
gone out, and it was pitch-dark, and the armour gave out glistening
beams as of fire, and he said to his father, "The pillars of the house
are on fire." And his father said, "It is the gods who sit above the
stars, and have power to make the night as light as the day." And
he took it for a good omen. And Telemachus fell to cleaning and
sharpening of the lances.

Now Ulysses had not seen his wife Penelope in all the time since his
return; for the queen did not care to mingle with the suitors at their
banquets, but, as became one that had been Ulysses's wife, kept much
in private, spinning and doing her excellent housewiveries among her
maids in the remote apartments of the palace. Only upon solemn days
she would come down and shew herself to the suitors. And Ulysses was
filled with a longi