No one recognized him except his old dog, Argus, long
neglected and devoured by vermin, who, at the sound of his master's voice,
drew near, wagged his tail, and fell dead.
According to their carefully laid plans, Telemachus feigned not to know
his father, but sent to the beggar some food. Ulysses asked the same of
the suitors, but was repulsed with taunts and insults, Antinoues, the most
insolent, striking him with a footstool.
To Penelope, weaving in her chamber, was carried the story of the beggar
at whom the abhorred Antinoues had thrown a stool, and she sent for him to
ask if he had tidings of Ulysses. He refused to go to her, however, until
the suitors had withdrawn for the night; and as he sat among the
revellers, he caught the first glimpse of his wife, as she came down among
her maids, to reproach her son for exposing himself to danger among the
suitors, and for allowing the beggar to be injured.
When darkness fell and the hall was deserted, Telemachus, with the
assistance of his father, removed all the weapons from the walls. After
Telemachus had retired to his chamber, Penelope came down, and sitting
upon her ivory throne conversed with the beggar, questioning him about his
story until he was driven to invent tales that seemed like truth, and
asking about her husband while the tears ran down her fair cheeks.
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