O that he came once more, and had care of my life as aforetime!

So were fairer my fame, and my lot more happy; for alway

Now I am sad—such woes hath a deity sent to assail me....

Wherefore little I care for my guests, or if beggars entreat me,

Little for heralds I care, who work for the weal of the people;

Wasted away is my heart as I yearn for Odysseus....[[8]]

She told him about the wooers, and the device of the shroud, which gained her three years’ respite. But a treacherous servant had betrayed her, and she had been compelled to finish her task.

Now can I neither escape from a marriage, nor yet am I able

Further device to discover; and urgently also my parents

Bid me to marry; and vexed is my son as they waste his possessions.[[8]]