They were silent until Amphinomus rose — son of Nisus, son of King Aretias, foremost among the suitors from grain-rich, grassy Dulichium, the one Penelope liked best for his words. With kind intent he said, “Friends, I would not choose to kill Telemachus. It is a fearful thing to shed the blood of a king’s stock. First let us ask the gods’ will. If the ordinances of great Zeus approve, I myself will kill him and urge you all. If the gods turn from it, I say we hold back.”
His words pleased them. They rose at once and went into Odysseus’s house and took their usual seats. Then Penelope resolved to show herself to the suitors. She had learned of the plot against Telemachus — the herald Medon had overheard their counsel and told her. She went down to the hall with her women. When she came among them she halted at the post of the stout hall, holding her shining veil before her cheeks, and spoke to Antinous, rebuking him:
“Antinous, insolent and wicked in your schemes — they say you are the best speaker of your age in Ithaca, but you are not. Madman, why do you weave death for Telemachus and care nothing for suppliants, for whom Zeus himself is witness? It is an unholy thing to plot against each other. Do you not know your own father fled here as a suppliant, fearing the people, when they were furious because he had joined Taphian pirates and raided the Thesprotians, who were our friends?”
Eurymachus son of Polybus answered, “Daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, take heart. Do not let this trouble you. The man is not born, and never will be, who shall lay hands on your son Telemachus while I live and look on the earth. I say this, and it will be done. His blood would spurt round my spear at once.”
Penelope went back upstairs and mourned her husband until Athena poured sweet sleep on her eyelids. At evening Eumaeus returned to Odysseus and his son. They had already sacrificed a yearling pig and were busy about it. The messenger came in. Telemachus spoke first, to keep the swineherd from guessing, and also to learn the news:
“So you are back, Eumaeus. What word from town? Have the proud suitors come in from ambush, or are they still watching for me on the homeward road?” Eumaeus answered, “I did not think to ask that when I was in the city. I meant to deliver the news and hurry straight home. I met a runner sent by your own crew, the first herald, and he told your mother before I could.”
Hearing this, Telemachus smiled toward his father, hiding it from Eumaeus. When the cooking was done and supper waited they ate, and each man had his share until all were satisfied. When desire for food and drink had left them, they thought of rest and took the gift of sleep.