Explore "Stories from the Odyssey" by H.L. Havell on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Stripping off his rags, and girding them round his waist, Odysseus took the quiver, and poured out all the arrows on the ground at his feet. "Now guide my hand, Apollo," he cried, "and make sure mine aim, for this time I will shoot at a mark which never man hit before."
Therewith he bent his bow again, and pointed the arrow at Antinous, who just at that moment was raising a full goblet of wine to his lips. Little thought that proud and insolent man, as the wine gleamed red before him, that he had tasted his last morsel, and drunk his last drop. He was in the prime of his manhood, surrounded by his friends, and in the midst of a joyous revel; who would dream of death and doom in such an hour? Yet at that very instant he felt a sharp, sudden pang, and fell back in his seat, pierced through the throat by the arrow of Odysseus. The blood poured from his nostrils, he let fall the cup, and spurning the table with his feet in his agony he overset it, and the bread and meat were scattered on the floor.