He spake, and greatly were the rest incensed, And one of those proud youths took up the word:—
“Antinoüs, it was ill of thee to smite That hapless wanderer. Madman! what if he Came down from heaven and were a god! The gods Put on the form of strangers from afar, And walk our towns in many different shapes, To mark the good and evil deeds of men.”
Thus spake the suitors, but he heeded not Their words. Telemachus, who saw the blow, Felt his heart swell with anger and with grief, Yet from his eyelids fell no tear; he shook His head in silence, pondering to repay The wrong. Meantime the sage Penelope Heard of the stranger smitten in her halls, And thus bespake the maidens of her train:—
“Would that Apollo, mighty with the bow, Might smite thee also!” Then Eurynomè, The matron of the household, said in turn:
“O, were our prayers but heard, not one of these Should look upon the golden morn again!”
Then spake again the sage Penelope: “Mother, they all are hateful; every one Plots mischief, but Antinoüs most of all; And he is like black death, to be abhorred. A friendless stranger passes through these halls, Compelled by need, and asks an alms of each, And all the others give, and fill his scrip; Antinoüs flings a footstool, and the blow Bruises the shoulder of the suppliant man.”
So talked they with each other where they sat In the queen’s chamber, mid the attendant train Of women, while meantime Ulysses took The evening meal. The queen then bade to call The noble swineherd, and bespake him thus:—
“My worthy friend Eumaeus, go and bring The stranger hither. I would speak with him, And ask if anywhere he saw or heard Aught of Ulysses; for he seems like one Whose wanderings have been in many lands.”