Scar as Proof

8Then spoke the sage Penelope again:
“Beloved nurse, exult not overmuch,
Nor rashly boast. Well is it known to you,
Were he to come beneath this roof again,
How welcome he would be to all, but most
To me and to the son to whom we gave
His being. Yet your tidings are not true.
Someone of the immortals must have slain
The arrogant suitors, angry to behold
Their foul injustice and their many crimes;
For no respect had they to mortal man,
Good he might be, or bad, whomever they met;
And therefore have they made an evil end.
But my Odysseus must have perished far
From Ithaca, cut off from his return.”

9Then Eurycleia, the dear nurse, rejoined:
“What words are these, my child, that pass your lips?
Say you, then, that your husband, who now stands
Upon your hearthstone, never will return?
O slow of faith! but you were ever thus.
Come, then, I give a certain proof. I saw
Myself, when he was at the bath, the scar
Left on him by the white tusk of a boar,
And would have told you, but he laid his hands
Upon my mouth, and would not suffer me
To bear the tidings, such his forecast was.
Now follow me; I give my life in pledge.
If I deceive you, slay me ruthlessly.”

10Then spoke discreet Penelope again:
“Dear nurse, though you in many things are wise,
Think not to scan the counsels of the gods,
Who live forever. Yet will we descend,
And meet my son, and look upon the slain,
And see the avenger by whose hand they fell.”