’Long ago a god put into my mind a device to keep marriage with any of them away from me.  I set up a great web upon my loom and I spoke to the wooers, saying, “Odysseus is assuredly dead, but I crave that you be not eager to speed on this marriage with me.  Wait until I finish the web I am weaving.  It is a shroud for Odysseus’ father, and I make it against the day when death shall come to him.  There will be no woman to care for Laertes when I have left his son’s house, and I would not have such a hero lie without a shroud, lest the women of our land should blame me for neglect of my husband’s father in his last days.’”

’So I spoke, and they agreed to wait until the web was woven.  In the daytime I wove it, but at night I unravelled the web.  So three years passed away.  Then the fourth year came, and my wooers were hard to deal with.  My treacherous handmaidens brought them upon me as I was unravelling the web.  And now I cannot devise any other plan to keep the marriage away from me.  My parents command me to marry one of my wooers.  My son cannot long endure to see the substance of his house and field being wasted, and the wealth that should be his destroyed.  He too would wish that I should marry.  And there is no reason why I should not be wed again, for surely Odysseus, my lord, is dead.’

Said Odysseus, ’Thy lord was known to me.  On his way to Troy he came to my land, for the wind blew him out of his course, sending him wandering past Malea.  For twelve days he stayed in my city, and I gave him good entertainment, and saw that he lacked for nothing in cattle, or wine, or barley meal.’

When Odysseus was spoken of, the heart of Penelope melted, and tears ran down her cheeks.  Odysseus had pity for his wife when he saw her weeping for the man who was even then sitting by her.  Tears would have run down his own cheeks only that he was strong enough to hold them back.

Said Penelope, ’Stranger, I cannot help but question thee about Odysseus.  What raiment had he on when thou didst see him?  And what men were with him?’

Said Odysseus, ’Lady, it is hard for one so long parted from him to tell thee what thou hast asked.  It is now twenty years since I saw Odysseus.  He wore a purple mantle that was fastened with a brooch.  And this brooch had on it the image of a hound holding a fawn between its fore-paws.  All the people marvelled at this brooch, for it was of gold, and the fawn and the hound were done to the life.  And I remember that there was a henchman with Odysseus—­he was a man somewhat older than his master, round shouldered and black-skinned and curly headed.  His name was Eurybates, and Odysseus honoured him above the rest of his company.’

When he spoke, giving such tokens of Odysseus, Penelope wept again.  And when she had wept for a long time she said: 

’Stranger, thou wert made welcome, but now thou shalt be honoured in this hall.  Thou dost speak of the garments that Odysseus wore.  It was I who gave him these garments, folding them myself and bringing them out of the chamber.  And it was I who gave him the brooch that thou hast described.  Ah, it was an evil fate that took him from me, bringing him to Troy, that place too evil to be named by me.’