“A bow lover!” “ See how he handles it, the sly old buzzard!”
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.
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 Telémakhos, 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.