Maids.

See there he sits— Hush! hush! He talketh to the fire— ’Cause of his wandering wits.— He! he! he! he! What makes he here?— He hath come over sea With old tales of the sire.— Why who would lend him ear? He! he! How could the prince give heed?— How can our lady trust This object of disgust?— Or how hath she agreed To take him here among The wooers as her guest? Half crazed too, I’ll be bound— He! he! he! he! And treat him like the rest, So noble all and young? Hush! hush! His old bones creak! Hush! hush! He looks, he turns around, He sees us, he will speak. Hush!

Ul. Ye miserable women, accurst of fate, Unknowing on the eve of doom ye are come To anger justice. Go! your wanton lovers Are gone; ye never shall concern them more. Nor none of them, nor ye that mock old men Shall know what ’tis to have grey hairs. Begone! For when Ulysses cometh, as men hang Bunches of grapes upon a string to dry, So shall he set you dangling in the court By your white necks. Fly to your chambers! Fly! Ulysses comes.

Maids. Ah, ah, ah! Mercy on us! [Exeunt.

Ul. Now first to find my son. If I dare call.

[Goes to L.

Softly—Telemachus!—Telemachus!

Tel. (enters L.). Father.

Ul. Speak softly, son, lest any hear. The goddess guides us well. The plot is laid: ’Tis but to tell it thee. I have won thy mother To confidence, tho’ yet she knows me not. To-morrow morn will she bring forth my bow, And make therewith a contest for the wooers, Pledging to marry him who strings the bow, And shoots an arrow through the axes’ heads. Now thou must set them up, as I will shew thee, In the outer court; that they who come to shoot May stand where we are standing—as I was wont,— Sending the arrows thro’ the open doorway. But when ’tis seen that none can string the bow, Then I shall take it, and be that our sign. With the first shaft I loose a foe will fall, And war begins; and when I speak my name, Thou and Eumæus join me; for the rest, Soon will they fly for safety to the court: But let its outer gate be barred; then we Here at the doorway can at leisure aim, Nor fear not any numbers. Learn thy part: To bar the gate of the court on the outer side, To close the postern, and set up the axes. And have good care their heads sit loose upon them, Nor bound unto the shafts; else might they serve For arms against us. As for other weapons They bear not many: those that here be hung Upon the walls, must we take down and hide. Which, if thou help me now, may soon be done. First let me put this blazing log aside, Lest light betray us.

Tel. Father, how shall we see To move the arms?

Ul. Now had the goddess made me As blind as old, I should not need to grope In my own house: and all, I have marked it well, Hang where I hung them there: each spear and shield I know the touch and weight of.

Tel. None hath dared To change a thing.

Ul. Lift off that shield.

Tel. I have it.

Ul. And that and these. Have care, son, lest the bronze Ring and betray us.

Tel. Now the helmet, father.

Ul. Reach me those spears above,

Tel. What is that light, That dances so and plays about the beams?

Ul. Now mayst thou see the goddess aiding us.

Tel. It shimmers like the moonlight on the sea.

Ul. ’Tis the same fierce ethereal flame of heaven, Which makes the lightning; but the wise Athenè Hath tamed it for her common servicings. Stay not to look on’t; ’tis to aid our work.

Tel. ’Tis certain we shall prosper.

Ul. Take thou those, I these. Follow me up the stair. Step slow And soft. Let nothing in thy burden shift. Come thou.

Tel. I follow.

Ul. Stealthily, my son, Soon shall we set them out of reach.

[Going up the stairs.