‘What a strange woman you are!’ he exclaimed. ‘The gods of

Olympus gave you a harder heart than any other woman. No

other wife could have steeled herself to keep so long out of

the arms of a husband who had just returned to her in his

native land after twenty wearisome years. Well, nurse, make a

bed for me to sleep alone. For my wife’s heart is as hard as

iron.’

‘What a strange man you are,’ said the cautious Penelope. ‘I

am not being haughty or contemptuous of you, though I’m not

surprised that you think I am. But I have too clear a picture of

you in my mind as you were when you sailed from Ithica in

your long-oared ship. Come, Eurycleia, move the great bed

outside the bedroom that he himself built and make it up with

fleeces and blankets and brightly coloured rugs.’

This was her way of putting her husband to the test. But

Odysseus flared up at once and rounded on his loyal wife.

‘Lady,’ he cried, ‘your words are a knife in my heart! Who has

moved my bed? That would be hard even for a skilled workman,

though for a god who took it into his head to come and move it

somewhere else would be quite easy. No man alive, not even

one in his prime, would find it easy to shift. A great secret went

into the making of that complicated bed ; and it was my work and

mine alone. Inside the court there was a long-leaved olive-tree,

which had grown to full height with a trunk as thick as a pillar.

Round this I built my room of compact stonework, and when

that was finished, I roofed it over carefully, and put it in a solid,

neatly-fitted, double door. Next I lopped all the branches off the

olive, trimmed the trunk from the root up, rounded it smoothly

and carefully with my adze and trued it to the line, to be my

bedpost. I drilled holes in it, and using it as the first bedpost I

constructed the rest of the bed. Then I finished it off with an

inlay of gold, silver and ivory, and fixed a set of gleaming purple

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straps across the frame. So I have shown you the secret. What I

don’t know, lady, is whether my bedstead stands where it did,

or whether someone has cut the tree-trunk through and moved

it.’

At his words her knees began to tremble and her heart melted

as she realized that he had given her infallible proof. Bursting

into tears she ran up to Odysseus, threw her arms round his

neck and kissed his head. ‘Odysseus,’ she cried, ‘do not be angry

with me, you who were always the most understanding of men.

All our unhappiness is due to ...

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