He spake, yet in his secret heart believed That he should bend the bow, and send a shaft Through all the rings. And yet he was the first To taste the steel—an arrow from the hand Of the great chief Ulysses—whom he wronged In his own palace, and to equal wrong Encouraged others. Then Telemachus Rose in his sacred might, and thus began:—
“Alas! it must be that Saturnian Jove Has made me lose my wits. Wise as she is, My mother promises to leave her home And follow someone else, and yet I laugh, And am delighted in my foolish heart.
Come then, since such a contest is proposed, Ye suitors! and for such a woman too. The like is not in all the lands of Greece, Argos, Mycenae, or the hallowed shore Of Pylos, or in Ithaca itself, Or the dark mainland coast. Ye know it well; Why should I praise my mother? Come then, all; Let there be no excuses for delay, Nor longer leave the bow untried, that we May see the event. I too am moved to try; And if I bend the bow, and send a shaft Through all the rings, my gracious mother then Will not, to my great grief, renounce her home, And, following another, leave me here, Although my prowess even now might win The glorious prizes that my father won.”
He spake and, rising, from his shoulders took The purple cloak, and laid the trenchant sword Aside; and first he placed the rings of steel In order, opening for them in the ground A long trench by a line, and stamping close The earth around them. All admired the skill With which he ranged them, never having seen The game before. And then he took his place Upon the threshold, and essayed the bow; And thrice he made the attempt, and thrice gave o’er, Yet hoping still to draw the cord, and send An arrow through the rings. He would have drawn The bow at the fourth trial, but a nod Given by his father caused him to forbear, Though eager for the attempt. And then again The princely youth bespake the suitors thus:—