That he had slain him wittingly, nor saw Th' infatuate men fate hov'ring o'er them all. Then thus Ulysses, louring dark, replied. O dogs! not fearing aught my safe return From Ilium, ye have shorn my substance close, Lain with my women forcibly, and sought, While yet I lived, to make my consort yours, 40 Heedless of the inhabitants of heav'n Alike, and of the just revenge of man. But death is on the wing; death for you all. He said; their cheeks all faded at the sound, And each with sharpen'd eyes search'd ev'ry nook For an escape from his impending doom, Till thus, alone, Eurymachus replied. If thou indeed art he, the mighty Chief Of Ithaca return'd, thou hast rehears'd With truth the crimes committed by the Greeks 50 Frequent, both in thy house and in thy field. But he, already, who was cause of all, Lies slain, Antinoüs; he thy palace fill'd With outrage, not solicitous so much To win the fair Penelope, but thoughts Far diff'rent framing, which Saturnian Jove Hath baffled all; to rule, himself, supreme In noble Ithaca, when he had kill'd By an insidious stratagem thy son. But he is slain. Now therefore, spare thy own, 60 Thy people; public reparation due Shall sure be thine, and to appease thy wrath For all the waste that, eating, drinking here We have committed, we will yield thee, each, Full twenty beeves, gold paying thee beside And brass, till joy shall fill thee at the sight, However just thine anger was before. To whom Ulysses, frowning stern, replied, Eurymachus, would ye contribute each His whole inheritance, and other sums 70 Still add beside, ye should not, even so, These hands of mine bribe to abstain from blood, Till ev'ry suitor suffer for his wrong. Ye have your choice. Fight with me, or escape (Whoever may) the terrours of his fate, But ye all perish, if my thought be true. He ended, they with trembling knees and hearts All heard, whom thus Eurymachus address'd. To your defence, my friends! for respite none Will he to his victorious hands afford, 80 But, arm'd with bow and quiver, will dispatch Shafts from the door till he have slain us all. Therefore to arms--draw each his sword--oppose The tables to his shafts, and all at once Rush on him; that, dislodging him at least From portal and from threshold, we may give The city on all sides a loud alarm, So shall this archer soon have shot his last. Thus saying, he drew his brazen faulchion keen Of double edge, and with a dreadful cry 90 Sprang on him; but Ulysses with a shaft In that same moment through his bosom driv'n Transfix'd his liver, and down dropp'd his sword.