striven to bend the bow, the others warily try sundry devices to
ensure its pliancy.

Meantime, noticing that the swineherd and one of his companions--upon
whose fidelity he counts--have left the hall, Ulysses follows them,
makes himself known by means of his scar, and directs them what to do.
Then, returning into the hall, he silently watches the suitors'
efforts to bend the bow, and, when the last has tried and failed,
volunteers to make the attempt, thereby rousing general ridicule. All
gibes are silenced, however, when the beggar not only spans the bow,
but sends his first arrow through the twelve rings. At the same time
the faithful servants secure the doors of the apartment, and
Telemachus, darting to his father's side, announces he is ready to
take part in the fray.

_Book XXII._

Then fierce the hero o'er the threshold strode;
Stript of his rags, he blazed out like a god.
Full in their face the lifted bow he bore,
And quiver'd deaths, a formidable store;
Before his feet the rattling shower he threw,
And thus, terrific, to the suitor-crew:
"One venturous game this hand hath won to-day;
Another, princes! yet remains to play:
Another mark our arrow must attain.
Phoebus, assist! nor be the labor vain."
Swift as the word the parting arrow sings;
And bears thy fate, Antinous, on its wings.
Wretch that he was, of unprophetic soul!