, alternate in her breast.
Her fluttering words in melting murmurs died;
At length abrupt--"My son!--my king!" she cried.

Her nap ended, Penelope resumes her conversation with the beggar,
telling him she has been favored by a dream portending the death of
the suitors. Still, she realizes there are two kinds of dreams,--those
that come true issuing from Somnus' palace by the gate of horn, while
deceptive dreams pass through an ivory gate. After providing for the
beggar's comfort, Penelope retires, and as usual spends most of the
night mourning for her absent partner.

_Book XX._ Sleeping beneath the portico on the skins of the animals
slain to feast the horde of suitors, Ulysses sees the maids slip out of
the palace to join the suitors, who have wooed them surreptitiously.
Then he falls asleep and is visited by Minerva, who infuses new
strength and courage in his veins. At dawn Ulysses is awakened by
Telemachus, and soon after the house is once more invaded by the
suitors, who with their own hands slay the animals provided for their
food. Once more they display their malevolence by ill treating the
beggar, and taunt Telemachus, who apparently pays no heed to their
words.

_Book XXI._ Meantime Minerva has prompted Penelope to propose to the
suitors to string Ulysses' bow and shoot an arrow through twelve
rings. Armed with this weapon, and followed by handmaids bearing bow,
string, and arrows, Penelope appears in the banquet-hall, where the
suitors eagerly accept her challenge. But, after Antinous has vainly
striven to bend the bow, the others warily try sundry devices to
ensure its pliancy.

Meantime, noticing that the swineherd and one of his companions--upon
whose fidelity he counts--have left the hall, Ulysses follows them,
makes himself known by means of his scar, and directs them what to do.
Then, returning into the hall, he silently watches the suitors'
efforts to bend the bow, and, when the last has tried and failed,
volunteers to make the attempt, thereby rousing general ridicule. All
gibes are silenced, however, when the beggar not only spans the bow,
but sends his first arrow through the twelve rings. At the same time
the faithful servants secure the doors of the apartment, and
Telemachus, darting to his father's side, announces he is ready to
take part in the fray.

_Book XXII._

Then fierce the hero o'er the threshold strode;
Stript of his rags, he blazed out like a god.
Full in their face