Then Leiodes, the priest, made supplication to Ulysses, saying, “I never wrought evil in this house, and would have kept others from it, but they would not. Naught have I done save serve at the altar; wherefore slay me not.” And Ulysses made reply, “That thou hast served at the altar of these men is enough, and also that thou wouldst wed my wife.” So he slew him; but Phemius, the minstrel, he spared, for he had sung among the suitors in the hall, of compulsion, and not of good will; and also Medon, the herald, bidding them go into the yard. There they sat, holding by the altar and looking fearfully every way, for yet they feared that they should die. And now Ulysses bade cleanse the hall and wash the benches and the tables with water, and purify them with sulphur; and when this was done, that Euryclea, the nurse, should go to Penelope and tell her that her husband was indeed returned. So Euryclea went to her chamber and found the queen newly awoke from slumber, and told her that her husband was returned, and how he had slain the suitors, and how she had known him by the scar where the wild boar had wounded him. And yet the queen doubted, and said, “Let me go down and see my son, and these men that are slain, and the man who slew them.” So she went, and sat in the twilight by the other wall, and Ulysses sat by the pillar, with eyes cast down, waiting till his wife should speak to him. She was sore perplexed; for now she seemed to know him, and now she knew him not, for he had not suffered that the women should put new robes upon him. And Telemachus said, “Mother, sittest thou apart from my father, and speakest not to him? Surely thy heart is harder than a stone.” But Ulysses said, “Let be, Telemachus. Thy mother will know that which is true in good time. But now let us hide this slaughter for a while, lest the friends of these men seek vengeance against us. Wherefore let there be music and dancing in the hall, so that men shall say, ‘This is the wedding of the queen, and there is joy in the palace,’ and know not of the truth.” So the minstrel played and women danced. And meanwhile Ulysses went to the bath, and clothed himself in bright apparel, and came back to the hall, and Minerva made him fair and young to see. Then he sat him down as before, near his wife, and said— “Surely, O lady, the gods have made thee harder of heart than all women besides. Would other wife have kept away from her husband, coming back now after twenty years?”