Page:The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer (IA iliadodysseyofho02home).pdf/450

442 As one tear-deluged through excess of wine. Him answer'd then Penelope discrete. The immortal Gods, O stranger, then destroy'd My form, my grace, my beauty, when the Greeks Whom my Ulysses follow'd, sail'd to Troy. Could he, returning, my domestic charge Himself intend, far better would my fame Be so secured, and wider far diffused. But I am wretched now, such storms of woe The Gods have sent me; for as many Chiefs As hold dominion in the neighbour isles Samos, Dulichium, and the forest-crown'd Zacynthus; others, also, rulers here In pleasant Ithaca, me, loth to wed, Woo ceaseless, and my household stores consume. I therefore, neither guest nor suppliant heed, Nor public herald more, but with regret Of my Ulysses wear my soul away. They, meantime, press my nuptials, which by art I still procrastinate. Some God the thought Suggested to me, to commence a robe Of amplest measure and of subtlest woof, Laborious task; which done, I thus address'd them. Princes, my suitors! since the noble Chief Ulysses is no more, enforce not now My nuptials; wait till I shall finish first A fun'ral robe (lest all my threads be marr'd) Which for the ancient Hero I prepare