Chapter XVI
Ulysses reveals himself to Penelope
Now at length Ulysses allowed the old nurse to carry the news to his sleeping spouse. Breathless she entered the chamber where the queen slumbered. “Penelope!” she cried. “Awake, my daughter! This is no time for sleep! He is here! Ulysses has come! All is over! Look down into the court. There they all lie in heaps. And hast thou heard nothing? Come quickly!”
“Oh,” cried Penelope, stretching herself and rubbing her eyes; “silly woman, how canst thou wake me thus and with such a fairy tale? Wouldst thou deceive me with false hopes? Oh, I slept so sweetly! How canst thou play such a trick on me? Only thine age protects thee from my anger.”
“I am not jesting, my daughter,” answered the old woman. “He is here, and with Telemachus’ aid has killed all the suitors. It happened whilst thou slept.”
“Mother, tell me the truth! How could he come so quickly?” She had sprung up and hung about the old nurse’s neck with anxious glances. Euryclea laughed. “He has been in the house since yesterday and thou thyself hast spoken with him.”
“What, Euryclea! The ragged old beggar?”
“Indeed, yes. The beggar with the greasy wallet whom the suitors made sport of. If they had but known!”
“Alas, mother, how disappointed I am. That is not my husband. No, that is not Ulysses.”
“Not Ulysses? Child, you are strange. I knew it last evening when I washed his feet and recognized the great scar—you remember it—from the boar’s tusk. But he would not allow me to speak.”
“It cannot be! It cannot be!” repeated Penelope. “But tell me what has happened?”