be that my brave father Ulysses did some wrong to the Achaeans
which you would now avenge on me, by aiding and abetting these
suitors. Moreover, if I am to be eaten out of house and home at
all, I had rather you did the eating yourselves, for I could
then take action against you to some purpose, and serve you with
notices from house to house till I got paid in full, whereas now
I have no remedy." {19}

With this Telemachus dashed his staff to the ground and burst
into tears. Every one was very sorry for him, but they all sat
still and no one ventured to make him an angry answer, save only
Antinous, who spoke thus:

"Telemachus, insolent braggart that you are, how dare you try to
throw the blame upon us suitors? It is your mother's fault not
ours, for she is a very artful woman. This three years past,
and close on four, she had been driving us out of our minds, by
encouraging each one of us, and sending him messages without
meaning one word of what she says. And then there was that other
trick she played us. She set up a great tambour frame in her
room, and began to work on an enormous piece of fine needlework.
'Sweet hearts,' said she, 'Ulysses is indeed dead, still do not
press me to marry again immediately, wait--for I would not have
skill in needlework perish unrecorded--till I have completed a
pall for the hero Laertes, to be in readiness against the time
when death shall take him. He is very rich, and the women of the
place will talk if he is laid out without a pall.'

"This was what she said, and we assented; whereon we could see
her working on her great web all day long, but at night she