And Odysseus took his time,

turning the bow, tapping it, every inch,

for borings that termites might have made

while the master of the weapon was abroad.

The suitors were now watching him, and some 

jested among themselves:

 

“A bow lover!”

 

“Dealer in old bows!”

 

“Maybe he has one like it

at home!”

 

“Or has an itch to make one for himself.”

 

“See how he handles it, the sly old buzzard!”  

 

And one disdainful suitor added this:

 

“May his fortune grow an inch for every inch he bends it!”

 

But the man skilled in all ways of contending,

satisfied by the great bow’s look and heft,

like a musician, like a harper, when

with quiet hand upon his instrument

he draws between his thumb and forefinger

a sweet new string upon a peg: so effortlessly

Odysseus in one motion strung the bow.

Then slid his right hand down the cord and plucked it,  

so the taut gut vibrating hummed and sang

a swallow’s note.

 

In the hushed hall it smote the suitors

and all their faces changed. Then Zeus thundered

overhead, one loud crack for a sign.

And Odysseus laughed within him that the son

of crooked-minded Kronos had flung that omen down.

He picked one ready arrow from his table

where it lay bare: the rest were waiting still

in the quiver for the young men’s turn to come.

He nocked it, let it rest across the handgrip,  

and drew the string and grooved butt of the arrow,

aiming from where he sat upon the stool.

 

Now flashed

arrow from twanging bow clean as a whistle

through every socket ring, and grazed not one,

to thud with heavy brazen head beyond.

 

Then quietly

Odysseus said:

“Telemachus, the stranger

you welcomed in your hall has not disgraced you.

I did not miss, neither did I take all day

stringing the bow. My hand and eye are sound,

not so contemptible as the young men say.  

The hour has come to cook their lordships’ mutton—

supper by daylight. Other amusements later,

with song and harping that adorn a feast.”

 

He dropped his eyes and nodded, and the prince

Telemachus, true son of King Odysseus,

belted his sword on, clapped hand to his spear,

and with a clink and glitter of keen bronze

stood by his chair, in the forefront near his father.