PENELOPE. (Vatican, Rome.)
Ulysses’ return to Ithaca.
Disguised as a beggar by Minerva’s kindly care, Ulysses sought the lowly dwelling of Eumæus, his swineherd, and from him [!-- original location of Penelope illustration --] learned all he wished to know about his wife and son. He heard that Penelope was fairly besieged with suitors, who were even now feasting and reveling in his palace, whence they refused to depart until she had made choice of a second husband; and also that Telemachus, now a young man, indignant and displeased with the suitors’ conduct, and guided and accompanied by his tutor Mentor, had set out in search of the father whom he could not believe dead.
Mentor was Minerva in disguise, who guided the young man to the courts of Nestor and Menelaus, and finally in a dream bade him return to Ithaca, where he would find the parent he sought. The young prince immediately obeyed, and landed near Eumæus’ hut, escaping a clever ambuscade posted by the suitors at the entrance of the port.
Minerva now permitted the father and son to recognize each other, in spite of their twenty years’ separation, and together they planned how best to punish the insolent suitors. They finally agreed that Telemachus should return to the palace and make no mention of his father’s return; while Ulysses, still in the guise of a beggar, should enter his home and claim the usual hospitality.
All was executed as they had planned. No one recognized the long-expected hero in the miserable old beggar—no one save his aged nurse Euryclea, and his faithful old dog Argus, who died for joy at his long-lost master’s feet.
“While over Argus the black night of death
Came suddenly as soon as he had seen
Ulysses, absent now for twenty years.”
Homer (Bryant’s tr.).
Penelope’s web.
Penelope, hearing that a stranger was within her gates, sent for him, to inquire whether he knew aught of her husband. She too failed to pierce his disguise, and languidly continued a piece of work which she cleverly used to baffle her suitors; for once, when urged to marry, she had replied that she would do so as soon as her work was finished.
As she was a diligent worker, the suitors expected soon to hear her decision, little knowing that she raveled at night all the web so carefully woven during the day.