Yet is thy intellect still immature. For what is this? why suffer'st thou a guest To be abused in thy own palace? how? Know'st not that if the stranger seated here Endure vexation, the disgrace is thine? Her answer'd, then, Telemachus discrete. I blame thee not, my mother, that thou feel'st Thine anger moved; yet want I not a mind Able to mark and to discern between Evil and good, child as I lately was, 280 Although I find not promptitude of thought Sufficient always, overaw'd and check'd By such a multitude, all bent alike On mischief, of whom none takes part with me. But Irus and the stranger have not fought, Urged by the suitors, and the stranger prov'd Victorious; yes--heav'n knows how much I wish That, (in the palace some, some in the court) The suitors all sat vanquish'd, with their heads Depending low, and with enfeebled limbs, 290 Even as that same Irus, while I speak, With chin on bosom propp'd at the hall-gate Sits drunkard-like, incapable to stand Erect, or to regain his proper home. So they; and now addressing to the Queen His speech, Eurymachus thus interposed. O daughter of Icarius! could all eyes Throughout Iäsian Argos[81] view thy charms, Discrete Penelope! more suitors still Assembling in thy courts would banquet here 300 From morn to eve; for thou surpassest far In beauty, stature, worth, all womankind. To whom replied Penelope discrete. The Gods, Eurymachus! reduced to nought My virtue, beauty, stature, when the Greeks, Whom my Ulysses follow'd, sail'd to Troy. Could he, returning, my domestic charge Himself intend, far better would my fame Be so secured, and wider far diffused. But I am wretched now, such storms the Gods 310 Of woe have sent me. When he left his home, Clasping my wrist with his right hand, he said. My love! for I imagine not that all The warrior Greeks shall safe from Troy return, Since fame reports the Trojans brave in fight, Skill'd in the spear, mighty to draw the bow, And nimble vaulters to the backs of steeds High-mettled, which to speediest issue bring The dreadful struggle of all-wasting war-- I know not, therefore, whether heav'n intend 320 My safe return, or I must perish there. But manage thou at home. Cherish, as now, While I am absent, or more dearly still My parents, and what time our son thou seest Mature, then wed; wed even whom thou wilt, And hence to a new home.--Such were his words, All which shall full accomplishment ere long Receive. The day is near, when hapless I, Lost to all comfort by the will of Jove, Must meet the nuptials that my soul abhors. 330 But this thought now afflicts me, and my mind