So spake he, and the maidens, as they heard, Cast at each other meaning looks, and laughed, And one Melantho, of the rosy cheeks, Railed at him impudently. She was born To Dolius, but Penelope had reared The damsel as a daughter of her own, And given her, for her pleasure, many things; Yet for the sorrows of Penelope Melantho little cared. Eurymachus Had made the girl his paramour. She spake, And chid Ulysses with unmannerly words:—
“Outlandish wretch! thou must be one whose brain Is turned, since thou wilt neither go to sleep Within a smithy, nor in any place Of public shelter, but wilt stay and prate Among this company with no restraint Or reverence. Either wine has stolen away Thy senses, or thy natural mood, perchance, Prompts thee to chatter idly. Art thou proud Of conquering Irus, that poor vagabond? Beware lest someone of robuster arms Than Irus seize and thrust thee out of doors With a bruised head and face begrimed with blood.”
The sage Ulysses frowned on her and said: “Impudent one, Telemachus shall hear From me the saucy words which thou hast said, And he will come and hew thee limb from limb.”
He spake; the damsels, frightened at his words, Fled through the hall, and shook in every limb With terror, lest his threat should be fulfilled. He meantime stood beside the kindled hearths And fed the flames, and, looking on the crowd Of suitors, brooded in his secret heart O’er plans that would not fail to be fulfilled.
But Pallas suffered not the suitors yet To cease from railing speeches, all the more To wound the spirit of Laertes’ son. Eurymachus, the son of Polybus, Began to scoff at him, and thus he spake To wake the ready laughter of the rest:—
“Hear me, ye suitors of the illustrious queen. I speak the thought that comes into my mind. Led by some god, no doubt, this man has come