Within the palace, meditated still Death to the suitors with Minerva’s aid.
The sage Penelope now left her bower; Like Dian or like golden Venus came The queen. Beside the hearth they placed for her The throne where she was wont to sit, inlaid With ivory and silver, which of yore The artisan Icmalius wrought. They laid Close to the throne a footstool, over which Was spread an ample fleece. On this sat down The sage Penelope. Her white-armed train Of handmaids came with her; they cleared away The abundant feast, and bore the tables off, And cups from which those insolent men had drunk; They laid upon the ground the lighted brands, And heaped fresh fuel round them, both for light And warmth. And now Melantho once again Bespake Ulysses with unmannerly words:—
“Stranger, wilt thou forever be a pest, Ranging the house at night to play the spy Upon the women? Leave the hall, thou wretch! And gorge thyself without, else wilt thou go Suddenly, driven by blows and flaming brands.”
The sage Ulysses frowned on her, and said: > “Pert creature! why so fiercely rail at me? Is it that I am squalid and ill-clad, And forced by want to beg from hand to hand? Such is the fate of poor and wandering men. I too was opulent once, inhabiting A plenteous home among my fellow-men, And often gave the wanderer alms, whoe’er He might be and in whatsoever need; And I had many servants, and large store Of things by which men lead a life of ease And are called rich. But Jupiter, the son Of Saturn, put an end to this, for so It pleased the god. Now, therefore, woman, think That thou mayst lose the beauty which is now Thy pride among the serving-women here; Thy mistress may be wroth, and make thy life A