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 Into the palace; for the light we have Of torches seems to issue from the crown Of his bald pate, a head without a hair.”
So said Eurymachus, and then bespake Ulysses, the destroyer of walled towns:—
“Stranger, if I accept thee, wilt thou serve Upon the distant parts of my estate? There shalt thou have fair wages, and shalt bring The stones in heaps together, and shalt plant Tall trees, and I will feed thee through the year, And give thee clothes, and sandals for thy feet.
But thou art used, no doubt, to idle ways, And never dost thou work with willing hands, But dost prefer to roam the town and beg, Purveying for thy gluttonous appetite.”