Eum.Ay, ay, my lord.
Ul.Hear me,
Ye warriors, wooers of Ulysses’ queen,
And you, Antinous and Eurymachus
In chief! ’Tis well ye urge to stay the contest,
And pour libations, that the archer god
To-morrow may grant strength to whom he will.
But first give me the bow, that I may gauge
My strength with yours, to see if yet remains
Some muscle lithe of what once clothed my limbs,