The riot without died into silence.
The clear cold voice of a herald began to speak.
Thus says the Queen Penelope: “To-morrow will I make an end of all. In the forenoon I will choose from among the princes whom I will wed. Too long have ye rioted within the palace and eaten up the substance of myself and my son. I am aweary. And since there is no other way, to-morrow I will choose. Ye shall take the great bow of the King Ulysses from its cover. And he who can shoot an arrow through twelve axes in a row—even as Ulysses was wont to do—him will I wed.”
“Nurse!” whispered Ulysses, “the king will be here before any can bend that bow. Now go into the queen and tell her that the old man is sick and begs leave to wait upon her another time. And comfort her with an omen that you have seen, but tell her nothing. And now farewell. There is much to do ere dawn.”
There was a silence of consternation in the great banqueting hall of the palace.
Penelope from her seat upon the raised steps beneath the richly-decorated wall at the end smiled faintly to herself.
The twelve axes stood in a row, driven into sockets in the pavement. The suitors stood in two long rows on either side.
Antinous, the strongest of them all, held a great polished bow. His face blazed with anger and was red with shame.
All eyes were centred on him. No one saw old Eumæus steal out into the porch and silently lower the heavy bars of the door and lash them tight with cords.