A Troubled Sleep

74Now in the upper chamber the chaste queen,
Penelope, lay fasting; food or wine
She had not tasted, and her thoughts were still
Fixed on her blameless son. Would he escape
The threatened death, or perish by the hands
Of the insolent suitors? As a lion’s thoughts,
When, midst a crowd of men, he sees with dread
The hostile circle slowly closing round,
Such were her thoughts, when balmy sleep at length
Came creeping over her as on her couch
She lay reclined, her limbs relaxed in rest.

75Now Athena framed a new device; she called
A phantom up, in aspect like the dame
Iphthime, whom Eumelus had espoused
In Pherae, daughter of the high-souled chief
Icarius. Her she sent into the halls
Of great Odysseus, that she might beguile
The sorrowful Penelope from tears
And lamentations. By the thong that held
The bolt she slid into the royal bower
And standing by her head bespoke the queen: —

76“Penelope, afflicted as you are,
Are you asleep? The ever-blessed gods
Permit you not to grieve and weep; your son,
Who has not sinned against them, shall return.”