_Ath._ And much thou needest me yet. Hark while I tell. Three years thy house hath been the hostelry Of dissolute and shameless men, the lords And princes of the isles and western shores; Who woo thy wife, and feasting in thy halls Make waste of all thy substance day and night. As men besiege a city, and their host Encamp about and let none out nor in, Waiting the day when hunger and sore need, Sharper than iron and cruder than fire, 200 Shall bow the starvèd necks beneath the yoke: So sit they there: and ’mong them is an oath That none will leave till one be satisfied; Whoe’er it be that in the end shall take Thy fair wife, and thy house and goods and lands; Which false and covetous oath, since all have shared, Must be the death of all. _Ul._ Now with thine aid Shall they be scattered, were their cursed swarm Thick as the rooks, which from his new-sown fields The husbandman a moment stays to scare, 210 Raising both hands. _Ath._ Not so may they escape. Better thou hadst not now returned, if one Of all these men avoid his destined death. _Ul._ How say’st thou, goddess, shall these men be slain? _Ath._ How were Ulysses’ foes then wont to die? _Ul._ It may not be. _Ath._ Thou wert not used to fear. _Ul._ Nay, but returned from exile and hard war, I would not usher battle in my home. _Ath._ Think’st thou of peace? Hadst thou but hence been stayed So long as shall suffice yon dying moon 220 To launch her young bark on the western sea, Then had Penelope no more been thine. _Ul._ Thou saidst that she was faithful. _Ath._ She withstands The urgence of the wooers day by day; But ’gainst herself, to save thy house from loss, Deeming thee dead indeed, now falls to yield. _Ul._ Vengeance upon them! Grant me but thine aid, And though they count by hundreds they shall die. _Ath._ If one escape, his joy will be for thine. _Ul._ All shall be slain, though ’twere a task too heavy 230 For great Alcides. But my son in this Should stand with me. May I not see him first? Shall he not know me, and, in that embrace I yearn for, knit his willing strength with mine? _Ath._ Telemachus hath lately at my bidding Sailed hence to Lacedæmon, there to inquire What might be learnt of thee. _Ul._ Was this well done, Or kindly of thee, who couldst have told him all: To send him far, upon a useless errand, Out of my sight, the eve of my return? 240