Then Odysseus tore off his rags and sprang onto the broad floor with his bow and his quiver full of arrows. He poured the swift shafts out at his feet and spoke among the suitors: This contest without match is finished. Now I shall aim at another mark that no man has yet hit — if Apollo grant me glory. The suitors turned and stared, still half laughing from the feast.
He aimed a deadly arrow at Antinous, who was about to lift a fine two-handled gold cup; murder was not in his thoughts. Odysseus struck him in the throat; the point passed clean through. Antinous sank to one side; the cup fell; a thick jet of blood came from his nostrils. He kicked the table from him and spilled the food on the floor. Bread and roast meat were fouled with his blood.
The suitors broke into an uproar. They sprang from their seats and ran about the walls searching for shields or spears — but there were none. They rebuked Odysseus: Stranger, you shoot men to your own hurt. You have killed the best young man in Ithaca; therefore the vultures shall eat you here. So each man guessed, thinking he had killed Antinous by mistake, and did not perceive that death was fastened on them all.
Looking from under his brows, Odysseus answered: Dogs, did you think I would not come back from Troy? You have wasted my goods, forced my women servants to lie with you, and while I was still alive courted my wife — with no fear of the gods, nor of any vengeance from men. Now the cords of death are fastened on you all. Pale fear took them; each man looked about for some way to escape.
Only Eurymachus answered: If you are indeed Odysseus of Ithaca come home, what you say is just. But Antinous, who was to blame for all this, lies dead — he who planned to be king in Ithaca when he had killed your son by ambush. Spare your own people. Afterward we will gather repayment for all that has been drunk and eaten; each man will bring twenty oxen, and pay you in bronze and gold until your heart is softened. Odysseus answered: Eurymachus, even if you gave me all you have, I would not stay my hands until the suitors had paid for all their wrong. Now fight, or flee if any can. Yet I think not one of you will escape. Until then, he said, no one could blame Odysseus for being angry.
Their knees and hearts went loose. Eurymachus spoke again: Friends, this man will not stay his hands. Draw swords; hold the tables as shields; let us all have at him together and try to drive him from the doors. Then raise the cry in the city. He drew his sharp sword and sprang at Odysseus. But Odysseus let fly an arrow and struck him in the breast by the nipple; the shaft fixed in his liver. He dropped the sword and fell sprawling over the table; mist poured over his eyes.