The Children's Hour, Volume 3 (of 10): Stories from the Classics
General
The Children's Hour, Volume 3 (of 10): Stories from the Classics
Children's stories; Classical literature -- Adaptations
Meanwhile within the house Eurynome, the housekeeper, bathed resolute
Ulysses and anointed him with oil, and on him put a goodly robe and tunic.
Upon his face Athene cast great beauty; she made him taller than before,
and stouter to behold, and made the curling locks to fall round his head
as on the hyacinth flower. As when a man lays gold on silver,--some
skillful man whom Vulcan and Pallas Athene have trained in every art, and
he fashions graceful work, so did she cast a grace upon his head and
shoulders. Forth from the bath he came, in bearing like the Immortals, and
once more took the seat from which he first arose, facing his wife, and
spoke to her these words:--
"Lady, a heart impenetrable beyond the sex of women the dwellers on
Olympus gave to you. There is no other woman of such stubborn spirit to
stand off from the husband who, after many grievous toils, comes in the
twentieth year home to his native land. Come, then, good nurse, and make
my bed, that I may lie alone. For certainly of iron is the heart within
her breast."
Then said to him heedful Penelope, "Nay, sir, I am not proud, nor
contemptuous of you, nor too much dazed with wonder. I very well remember
what you were when you went upon your long-oared ship away from Ithaca.
However, Eurycleia, make up his massive bed outside that stately chamber
which he himself once built. Move the massive frame out there, and throw
the bedding on,--the fleeces, robes, and bright-hued rugs."
She said this in the hope to prove her husband, but Ulysses spoke in anger
to his faithful wife: "Woman, these are bitter words which you have said!
Who set my bed elsewhere? A hard task that would be for one, however
skilled,--unless a god should come and by his will set it with ease upon
some other spot; but among men no living being, even in his prime, could
lightly shift it; for a great token is inwrought into its curious frame. I
built it; no one else. There grew a thick-leaved olive shrub inside the
yard, full-grown and vigorous, in girth much like a pillar. Round this I
formed my chamber, and I worked till it was done, building it out of
close-set stones, and roofing it over well. Framed and tight-fitting doors
I added to it. Then I lopped the thick-leaved olive's crest, cutting the
stem high up above the roots, neatly and skillfully smoothed with my axe
the sides, and to the line I kept all true to shape my post, and with an
auger I bored it all along. Starting with this, I fashioned me the bed
till it was finished, and I inlaid it well with gold, with silver, and
with ivory. On it I stretched a thong of ox-hide, gay with purple. This is
the token I now tell. I do not know whether the bed still stands there,
wife, or whether somebody has set it elsewhere, cutting the olive trunk."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account