Now name to me The women of the palace; let me know Who is disloyal, and who innocent.”
Then thus the well-beloved nurse replied:
“My son, I will declare the truth. There dwell Here in thy palace fifty serving-maids, Whom we have taught to work, to comb the fleece And serve the household. Twelve of these have walked The way of shame. To me they give no heed, Nor to Penelope herself. Thy son Has just now grown to manhood, and the queen Has never suffered him to rule the maids; But let me now, ascending to her room— The royal bower—apprise thy wife, to whom Some deity has sent the gift of sleep.”
Ulysses, the sagacious, answered thus:
“Wake her not yet, but go and summon all The women who have wrought these shameful deeds.”
He spake; the matron through the palace went To seek the women, and to bid them come. Meanwhile, Ulysses called Telemachus, The herdsman and the swineherd to his side, And thus commanded them with winged words:—
“Begin to carry forth the dead, and call The women to your aid; and next make clean, With water and with thirsty sponges, all The sumptuous thrones and tables. When ye thus Have put the hall in order, lead away The serving-maids, and in the space between The kitchen vault and solid outer wall Smite them with your long swords till they give up The ghost, and lose the memory evermore Of secret meetings with the suitor-train.”
He spake; the women came, lamenting loud With many tears, and carried forth the dead, Leaning upon each other as they went, And placed them