Odysseus was sitting bowed over the fire, which shone redly on his
face, as he leaned his head upon his hand. He was still clothed in his
beggar's rags, and strangely disfigured by the magic power of Athene;
while the red stains of slaughter, which still lay thick upon him,
served to render his disguise yet deeper. Small wonder then that
Penelope hesitated long to acknowledge him for her husband, as she sat
some way off scanning his features with timid yet attentive gaze, like
one who strives to decipher a blurred and blotted manuscript. More
than once she started up, as if about to fall upon his neck; then the
gleam which had lighted up her face died away, her arms drooped
listlessly at her side, and she remained motionless and cold.
When this had lasted for some time, Telemachus, who was present,
rebuked his mother in angry terms, saying: "Fie upon thee, my mother!
hast thou no heart at all? Why holdest thou thus aloof from my father,
who has come back to thee after twenty years of suffering and toil?
But 'twas ever thus with thee--thou art harder than stone."
"My child," answered Penelope, "I am sore amazed; I cannot speak, or
ask any question, or look him in the face. But if this man be indeed
my husband, he knows how to convince me, and scatter all my doubts to
the winds, for there are secrets between us whereof no one knoweth,
save only ourselves."
Odysseus smiled at his wife's caution. "Not in vain," he thought, "is
she known to all the world as the prudent Penelope." Then, in order to
give her time, he turned to Telemachus and said: "Come not between my
wife and me, Telemachus; we shall know each other in due season. I
have another charge for thee, and do thou mark heedfully what I shall
say. We have slain the noblest in the land, not one, but many, who
leave a host of friends to take up their cause: how then shall we
escape the blood feud? We had best look to it warily and well."
"Father," answered Telemachus, "thou hast the name of wise, beyond all
living men. Be it thine, therefore, to declare thy counsel, and I will
follow it, to the utmost stretch of my power."
"Thus, then, shalt thou do," said Odysseus: "let all the household put
on clean raiment, and bid the minstrel take his harp and make sweet
music for the festal dance. Then foot it merrily, everyone, that all
they who pass by the house may think that ye are keeping the marriage
feast. In this wise the rumour of the wooers' death shall not reach
the town until we have had time to collect our men and prepare for our
defence."
Telemachus went forthwith to carry out his father's orders. The whole
household, men and women, arrayed themselves in festal attire, and
soon the hall echoed to the throbbing notes of the lyre, and the loud
patter of the dancers' feet. And those who heard it from without said
to one another: "So the long wooing of our queen has come to an end at
last! Fickle woman, that could not endure unto the end, and keep faith
with the husband of her youth!"