My darling Husband,
I wish you would write a little more distinctly; we have the greatest
difficulty in reading your letters.
When will this horrid siege be over? I think it is disgraceful of you
all to be so long about it. To think that when you started you only
said that it would last a month! Mind you come back the moment it is
over, and come back _straight_, by Aulis.
The country is looking lovely. I have built a new house for the
swineherd, as he complained about the roof letting the rain in. Next
year, we must really have a new paling round the garden, as the
children get in and steal the apples. We can’t afford it _this_ year.
The people have no sense of honesty; they steal everything. Telemachus
is very well. He can read and write nicely, but is most backward about
his sums. He takes a great interest in the war, and has made up a map
on which he marks the position of the troops with little flags.
I am surprised to hear of Achilles’ _disgraceful_ conduct. If I were
there I would give him a piece of my mind. I hope Ajax has not had any
more of his attacks. Has he tried cinnamon with fomented myrtle leaves?
It ought to be taken three times a day _after_ meals. The news from
Mycenae is deplorable. Clytaemnestra appears to be quite shameless and
callous. Aegisthus is now openly living in the house. All decent people
have ceased to go near them. I have had a few visitors, but nobody of
any importance.
I am working you a piece of tapestry for your bedroom. I hope to get it
finished by the time you come back. I hope that when the city is taken
Helen will be severely punished.
We have taught Argus to growl whenever Hector is mentioned. I don’t, of
course, allow any one to mention Helen in this house. Telemachus sends
you his loving duty. He is writing to you himself, but the letter isn’t
finished.
Your devoted wife,
PENELOPE.
_Helen to Clytaemnestra_