Before all this had come to pass Athene had inspired Penelope with the idea of appearing among the suitors and putting a stop to their plundering by means of cunning words. The goddess wished to give the unrecognized beggar the happiness of seeing his excellent wife in all her majesty and the pure light of her innocence and faithfulness. Invested with divine beauty by the goddess, Penelope descended clad in a charming robe, her face covered with a long veil and accompanied by two serving maids. As she entered the hall, all gazed at her admiringly, each wishing that she might choose him for her husband. “By all the gods, noble Penelope,” cried Eurymachus, “if all the sons of Greece could see thee, thy palace would be even more full of suitors than it is now—thou art so far superior to all other women in beauty and in nobility of soul.” “Alas, Eurymachus,” she answered, “the gods destroyed my beauty when my dear husband sailed against Troy. If only he were restored to me, I should lead a glorious life; but now I mourn in sorrow, anxiety, and solitude. When he gave me his hand for the last time he said: ‘Dear wife, I am going to a long war in a distant country. The gods alone know whether I shall return. Take care of the house and our property, consider my father and mother, and bring up our son carefully. When he has grown to manhood, if I have not returned, make room for him in the house and do thou wed with another.’ Alas, I did not think that it would ever be; but to my sorrow fate has decreed that the fatal day of my espousals draws near. And what manner of wooing is this? It is customary for the suitors of a rich man’s daughter themselves to bring the beeves and fatted calves for the feast and to invite the bride’s friends and to bring her rich gifts. But who has ever heard of their squandering the substance of the bride whom they are wooing?” The suitors were ashamed and promised to bring the beautiful Penelope handsome presents next day, and she did indeed receive richer gifts than ever a bride before. When she had retired, the suitors continued their sport. As night fell the maids appeared to light the lamps. That meant, in ancient times, to burn shavings in a brazier on high pedestals and then to renew the shavings when they had burned low. Ulysses said to them: “Go ye rather to the apartments of the amiable queen. Turn the spindle and comb the wool and bring her cheer. Leave the blazing torches to me.” They only laughed at him, but when he threatened to tell Telemachus, they ran hastily away and left him. He tended the lights, meanwhile observing carefully all that the suitors did and said. Although he had seemed to gain their favor by his successful fight, still they could not long desist from teasing and mockery. “Look, friends,” laughingly cried Eurymachus, “this beggar must be some good. See the glow which surrounds his bald head. Such a halo belongs only to the immortals.”