While they were thus conversing, the whole body of the wooers came thronging into the house, and the daily banquet began.  At the inner end of the hall, commanding the door which led to the women’s quarters, was a sort of platform or dais of stone, raised to some height above the general level of the floor, and facing the main entrance.  Here Telemachus, as giver of the feast, was seated; and while the servants were handing round the dishes he called Odysseus from his place by the door, and made him sit down by his side.  “Sit down here,” he said, “and eat and drink thy fill.  And you, sirs,” he added, addressing the wooers, “keep a guard on your hands and your tongues.  This is no tavern, but my own house, and I will not suffer my guest to be wronged by word or deed under my roof.”

This bold speech passed for the present unchallenged, though many a threatening look was directed at the young prince.  By order of Telemachus, Odysseus received an equal portion with the other guests, and the banquet proceeded.  Presently a new instance of the wooers’ brutality was given, as if they were resolved to keep the edge of his anger fresh and keen.  The author of this outrage was Ctesippus, a wealthy lord of Same.  Taking up a bullock’s foot from a basket, in which the refuse of the meal was thrown, he made this merry jest:  “The stranger has received an equal share of our meat, as is but right; for who would wish to stint a guest of Telemachus?  And now I will make him a present over and above, that he may bestow somewhat on the bathwoman, or some other of the servants.”  Suiting the action to the word he hurled the missile with savage force at Odysseus; but he, ever on the alert, avoided it by bowing his head, and it struck the wall with a crash.

“Ctesippus,” said Telemachus sternly, “it is well for thee that thou hast missed, else thou hadst died by my hand.  Is it not enough that ye slaughter my cattle and pour out my wine like water, but must I sit here day after day while ye fill my house with riot and injury and outrage?”

The wooers sat silent, being somewhat abashed by the just rebuke; and after a long pause, one of them, whose name was Agelaus, answered mildly:  “Telemachus says well, for indeed he hath been sorely provoked.  Let there be an end of these mad doings, which it is a shame to see.  And if Telemachus will be advised by me he will urge his mother to make choice of a husband, that he may henceforth dwell unmolested in his father’s house.  Why will she delay us further?  Surely by this time she must have given up all hope of ever seeing Odysseus again.”

“Now by the woes of my father!” answered Telemachus, “I hinder her not from wedding whom she pleases; nay, I bid her do so, and offer bridal gifts besides.  But I cannot drive her by force from my doors.”

His words had a strange effect on the wooers:  with one accord they broke out into a yelling peal of laughter, like women in a hysteric fit, while their eyes were filled with tears.  And, more awful still! their meat dropped blood as they conveyed it to their lips, and an unearthly wailing was heard, like the cry of a spirit in torment.