A Night’s Rest

24Then spoke discreet Telemachus again: —
“Atrides Menelaus, reared by Zeus,
Ruler of tribes! the harder was his lot,
Since even thus he could not shun the stroke
Of death, not though a heart of steel were his.
But now dismiss us to our beds, that there,
Couched softly, we may welcome balmy sleep.”

25He spoke, and Argive Helen called her maids
To make up couches in the portico,
And throw fair purple blankets over them,
And tapestry above, and cover all
With shaggy cloaks. Forth from the palace halls
They went with torches, and made ready soon
The couches; thither heralds led the guests.
There in the vestibule Telemachus,
The hero, and with him the eminent son
Of Nestor, took their rest. Meanwhile the son
Of Atreus lay within an inner room
Of that magnificent pile, and near to him
The glorious lady, long-robed Helen, slept.
But when at length the daughter of the dawn,
The rosy-fingered Eos, brought her light,
Then Menelaus, great in battle, rose,
Put on his garments, took his trenchant sword,
And, having hung it on his shoulder, laced
The shapely sandals to his shining feet,
And issued from his chamber like a god
In aspect. Near Telemachus he took
His seat, and calling him by name he spoke: —