The cave in which it seemed that thou must die.”
Thus he rebuked his heart, and, growing calm, His heart submitted; but the hero tossed From side to side. As when one turns and turns The stomach of a bullock filled with fat And blood before a fiercely blazing fire And wishes it were done, so did the chief Shift oft from side to side, while pondering how To lay a strong hand on the multitude Of shameless suitors—he but one, and they So many.
Meantime Pallas, sliding down From heaven, in form a woman, came, and there Beside his bed stood over him, and spake:—
“Why, most unhappy of the sons of men, Art thou still sleepless? This is thine abode, And here thou hast thy consort and a son Whom any man might covet for his own.”
Ulysses, the sagacious, answered thus:
“Truly, O goddess, all that thou hast said Is rightly spoken. This perplexes me— How to lay hands upon these shameless men, When I am only one, and they a throng That fill the palace. Yet another thought, And mightier still—if, by thy aid and Jove’s, I slay the suitors, how shall I myself Be safe thereafter? Think, I pray, of this.”
And thus in turn the blue-eyed Pallas said: “O faint of spirit! in an humbler friend Than I am, in a friend of mortal birth And less farseeing, one might put his trust; But I am born a goddess, and protect Thy life in every danger. Let me say, And plainly say, if fifty armed bands Of men should gather round us, eager all To take thy life, thou mightest drive away, Unharmed by them, their herds and pampered flocks. But give thyself to sleep.