The Odyssey: Book 20

...so he growled from his depths, hackles rising at their outrage.

The rest were abed by now—they'd milled their stint—
this one alone, the frailest of all, kept working on.

"Friend, do the suitors show you more respect
or treat you like the dregs of the earth as always?"

Wild and reckless young cubs, conniving here
in another's house.

Riffraff,
you and your begging make us sick!

But just look,
these interlopers tell me to drive them in
for their own private feasts.

Ah, but isn't it worse
to hold out here, tending the herds for upstarts,
not their owners—suffering all the pains of hell?

The suitors ambled into Odysseus' royal house
and flinging down their cloaks on a chair or bench,
they butchered hulking sheep and fatted goats,
full-grown hogs and a young cow from the herd.

There was one among them, a lawless boor—
Ctesippus was his name, he made his home in Same,
a fellow so impressed with his own astounding wealth
he courted the wife of Odysseus, gone for years.

On that note,
grabbing an oxhoof out of a basket where it lay,
with a brawny hand he flung it straight at the king—
but Odysseus ducked his head a little, dodging the blow,
and seething just as the oxhoof hit the solid wall
he clenched his teeth in a wry sardonic grin.

But now a word
of friendly advice for Telemachus and his mother—
here's hoping it proves congenial to them both.

At that
they all broke into peals of laughter aimed at the seer—
Polybus' son Eurymachus braying first and foremost...

"Look what your man dragged in—this mangy tramp
scraping for bread and wine!"

"And then this charlatan up and apes the prophet."

So they jeered, but the prince paid no attention...
silent, eyes riveted on his father, always waiting
the moment he'd lay hands on that outrageous mob.