Then spake the godlike Theoclymenus:
“Eurymachus, from thee I ask no guide, For I have eyes and ears, and two good feet, And in my breast a mind as sound as they, And by the aid of these I mean to make My way without; for clearly I perceive A coming evil, which no suitor here Will yet escape—no one who, in these halls Of the great chief, Ulysses, treats with scorn His fellow-man, and broods o’er guilty plans.”
He spake, and, hastening from that noble pile, Came to Piraeus, in whose house he found A welcome. All the suitors, as he went, Looked at each other, and, the more to vex Telemachus, kept laughing at his guests. And thus an insolent youth among them said:—
“No man had ever a worse set of guests Than thou, Telemachus. For what a wretch That wandering beggar is, who always wants His bread and wine, and is unfit for work, And has no strength; in truth, a useless load Upon the earth he treads. The other guest Rises to play the prophet. If thou take My counsel, which I give thee for thy good, Let them at once be put on board a barque Of many oars, and we will send them hence To the Sicilians; they will bring a price.”
So talked the suitors, but he heeded not Their words, and, looking toward his father, held His peace, expecting when he would lay hands Upon that insolent crew.
Penelope, Sage daughter of Icarius, took her place Right opposite upon a sumptuous seat, And heard the words of every man who spake Within the hall.
They held that midday feast With laughter—a luxurious feast it was, And mirthful; many victims had been slain To furnish forth the tables; but no feast Could be more bitter than the later one, To which the goddess and that valiant man Would bid the guilty crew of plotters soon.