| 1 |
Meanwhile
the two in the hut, Odysseus and the goodly swineherd, had kindled
a fire, and were making ready their breakfast at dawn, and had sent
forth the herdsmen with the droves of swine; but around Telemachus
the baying hounds fawned aud balked not as he drew near. And goodly
Odysseus noted the fawning of the hounds, and the sound of footsteps
fell upon his ears; and straightway he spoke to Eumaeus winged words:
|
|
| 8 |
"Eumaeus,
surely some comrade of thine will be coming, or at least some one
thou knowest, for the hounds do not bark, but fawn about him, and
I hear the sound of footsteps."
|
|
|
| 11 |
Not
yet was the word fully uttered, when his own dear son stood in the
doorway. In amazement up sprang the swineherd, and from his hands
the vessels fell with which he was busied as he mixed the flaming
wine. And he went to meet his lord, and kissed his head and both his
beautiful eyes and his two hands, and a big tear fell from him.
|
|
| 17 |
And
as a loving father greets his own dear son, who comes in the tenth
year from a distant land—his only son
|
|
| |
and well-beloved, for whose sake he has borne much sorrow— even
so did the goodly swineherd then clasp in his arms godlike Telemachus,
and kiss him all over as one escaped from death; and with wailing
he addressed him with winged words:
|
|
| 23 |
"Thou
art come, Telemachus, sweet light of my eyes. I thought I should
never see thee more after thou hadst gone in thy ship to Pylos.
But come, enter in, dear child, that I may delight my heart with
looking at thee here in my house, who art newly come from other
lands. For thou dost not often visit the farm and the herdsmen,
but abidest in the town; so, I ween, has it seemed good to thy heart,
to look upon the destructive throng of the wooers."
|
|
| 30 |
Then
wise Telemachus answered him:
|
|
| 31 |
"So
shall it be, father. It is for thy sake that I am come hither, to
see thee with my eyes, and to hear thee tell whether my mother still
abides in the halls, or whether by now some other man has wedded
her, and the couch of Odysseus lies haply in want of bedding, covered
with foul spider-webs."
|
|
| 36 |
Then
the swineherd, a leader of men, answered him:
|
|
| 37 |
"Aye, verily,
she abides with steadfast heart in thy halls, and ever sorrowfully
for her the nights and the days wane as she weeps."
|
|
| 40 |
So
saying, he took from him the spear of bronze, and Telemachus went
in and passed over the stone threshold. As he drew near, his father,
Odysseus, rose from his seat and gave him place, but Telemachus
on his part checked him, and said:
|
|
| 44 |
"Be
seated, stranger, and we shall find a seat elsewhere in our farmstead.
There is a man here who will set us one."
|
|
| 46 |
So
he spoke, and Odysseus went back and sat down again, and for Telemachus
the swineherd strewed green brushwood beneath and a fleece above
it, and there the dear son of Odysseus sat down. Then the swineherd
set before them platters of roast meats, which they had left at
their meal the day before, and quickly heaped up bread in baskets,
and mixed in a bowl of ivy wood honey-sweet wine, and himself sat
down over against divine Odysseus. So they put forth their hands
to the good cheer lying ready before them.
|
|
| 55 |
But
when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, Telemachus
spoke to the goodly swineherd, and said:
|
|
| 57 |
"Father,
from whence did this stranger come to thee? How did sailors bring
him to Ithaca? Who did they declare themselves to be? For nowise,
methinks, did he come hither on foot."
|
|
| 60 |
To
him then,swineherd Eumaeus, didst thou make answer, and say:
|
|
| 61 |
"Then
verily, my child, I will tell thee all the truth. From broad Crete
he declares that he has birth, and he says that he has wandered
roaming through many cities of mortals; so has a god spun for him
this lot. But now he has run away from a ship of the Thesprotians
and come to my farmstead, and I shall put him in thy hands. Do what
thou wilt. He declares himself thy suppliant.
|
|
| 68 |
Then
again wise Telemachus answered him:
|
|
| 69 |
"Eumaeus,
verily this word which thou hast uttered stings me to the heart.
For how am I to welcome this stranger in my house? I am myself but
young, nor have I yet trust in my might to defend me against a man,
when one waxes wroth without a cause. And as for my mother, the
heart in her breast wavers this way and that, whether to abide here
with me and keep the house, respecting the bed of her husband and
the voice of the people, or to go now with him whosoever is best
of the Achaeans that woo her in the halls, and offers the most gifts
of wooing.
|
|
| 78 |
But
verily, as regards this stranger, now that he has come to thy house,
I will clothe him in a cloak and tunic, fair raiment, and will give
him a two-edged sword, and sandals for his feet, and send him whithersoever
his heart and spirit bid him go. Or, if thou wilt, do thou keep
him here at the farmstead, and care for him, and raiment will I
send hither and all his food to eat, that he be not the ruin of
thee and of thy men. But thither will I not suffer him to go, to
join the company of the wooers, for they are over-full of wanton
insolence, lest they mock him, and dread grief come upon me. And
to achieve aught is hard for one man among many, how mighty soever
he be, for verily they are far stronger."
|
|
| 90 |
Then
the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus answered him:
|
|
| 91 |
"Friend,
since surely it is right for me to make answer—verily ye rend my
heart, as I hear your words, such wantonness you say the wooers
devise in the halls in despite of thee, so goodly a man.
|
|
| 95 |
Tell
me, art thou willingly thus oppressed? Or do the people throughout
the land hate thee, following the voice of a god? Or hast thou cause
to blame thy brothers, in whose fighting a man trusts even if a
great strife arise. Would that with my present temper I were as
young as thou, either the son of blameless Odysseus, or Odysseus
himself; I straightway then might some stranger cut my head from
off my neck, if I did not prove myself the bane of them all when
I had come to the halls of Odysseus, son of Laertes. But if they
should overwhelm me by their numbers, alone as I was, far rather
would I die, slain in my own halls, than behold continually these
shameful deeds, strangers mishandled, and men dragging the handmaidens
in shameful fashion through the fair halls, and wine drawn to waste,
and men devouring my bread all heedlessly, without limit, with no
end to the business."
|
|
| 112 |
And
wise Telemachus answered him:
|
|
| 113 |
"Then verily,
stranger, I will frankly tell thee all. Neither do the people at
large bear me any grudge or hatred, nor have I cause to blame brothers,
in whose fighting a man trusts, even if a great strife arise. For
in this wise has the son of Cronos made our house to run in but
a single line. As his only son did Arceisius beget Laertes, as his
only son again did his father beget Odysseus, and Odysseus begot
me as his only son, and left me in his halls, and had no joy of
me. Therefore it is that foes past counting are now in the house;
for all the princes who hold sway over the islands—Dulichium, and
Same, and wooded Zacynthus—and those who lord it over rocky Ithaca,
all these woo my mother and lay waste my house. And she neither
refuses the hateful marriage, nor is she able to make an end; but
they with feasting consume my substance, and will ere long bring
me, too, to ruin.
|
|
| 129 |
Yet
these things verily lie on the knees of the gods. But, father, do
thou go with speed, and tell constant Penelope that she has me safe,
and I am come from Pylos. But I will abide here, and do thou come
back hither, when thou hast told thy tale to her alone, but of the
rest of the Achaeans let no one learn it, for many there are who
contrive evil against me."
|
|
| 135 |
To
him then, swineherd Eumaeus, didst thou make answer, and say:
|
|
| 136 |
"I see,
I give heed; this thou biddest one with understanding. But come
now, tell me this, and declare it truly; whether I shall go on the
self-same way with tidings to Laertes also, wretched man, Who for
a time, though grieving sorely for Odysseus, was still wont to oversee
the fields, and would eat and drink with the slaves in the house,
as the heart in his breast bade him. But now, from the day when
thou wentest in thy ship to Pylos, they say he has no more eaten
and drunk as before, nor overseen the fields, but with groaning
and wailing he sits and weeps, and the flesh wastes from off his
bones."
|
|
| 146 |
Then
wise Telemachus answered him:
|
|
| 147 |
" 'Tis
the sadder; but none the less we will let him be, despite our sorrow;
for if in any wise all things might be had by mortals for the wishing,
we should choose first of all the day of my father's return. No,
do thou come back, when thou hast given thy message, and wander
not over the fields in search of Laertes; but bid my mother with
all speed send forth her handmaid, the housewife, secretly, for
she might bear word to the old man."
|
|
| 154 |
With
this he roused the swineherd, and he took his sandals in his hands
and bound them beneath his feet and went forth to the city. Nor
was Athene unaware that the swineherd Eumaeus was gone from the
farmstead, but she drew near in the likeness of a woman, comely
and tall, and skilled in glorious handiwork.
|
|
| 159 |
And
she stood over against the door of the hut, shewing herself to Odysseus,
but Telemachus did not see her before him, or notice her; for in
no wise do the gods appear in manifest presence to all. But Odysseus
saw her, and the hounds, and they barked not, but with whining slunk
in fear to the further side of the farmstead. Then she made a sign
with her brows, and goodly Odysseus perceived it, and went forth
from the hall, past the great wall of the court, and stood before
her, and Athene spoke to him, saying:
|
|
| 167 |
"Son
of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, even now
do thou reveal thy word to thy son, and hide it not, that when you
two have planned death and fate for the wooers, you may go to the
famous city. Nor will I myself be long away from you, for I am eager
for the battle."
|
|
| 172 |
With
this, Athene touched him with her golden wand. A well-washed cloak
and a tunic she first of all cast about his breast, and she increased
his stature and his youthful bloom. Once more he grew dark of colour,
and his cheeks filled out, and dark grew the beard about his chin.
|
|
| 177 |
Then, when she
had wrought thus, she departed, but Odysseus went into the hut.
And his dear son marvelled, and, seized with fear, turned his eyes
aside, lest it should be a god. And he spoke, and addressed him
with winged words:
|
|
| 181 |
"Of
other sort thou seemest to me now, stranger, than awhile ago, and
other are the garments thou hast on, and thy colour is no more the
same. Verily thou art a god, one of those who hold broad heaven.
Nay then, be gracious, that we may offer to thee acceptable sacrifices
and golden gifts, finely wrought; but do thou spare us."
|
|
| 186 |
Then
the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus answered him:
|
|
| 187 |
"Be
sure I am no god; why dost thou liken me to the immortals? Nay,
I am thy father, for whose sake thou dost with groaning endure many
griefs, and submittest to the violence of men."
|
|
|
190 |
So
saying, he kissed his son, and from his cheeks let fall a tear to
earth, but before he ever steadfastly held them back. Howbeit Telemachus—for
he did not yet believe that it was his father—again answered, and
spoke to him, saying:
|
|
| 194 |
"Thou
velily art not my father Odysseus, but some god beguiles me, that
I may weep and groan yet more. For nowise could a mortal man contrive
this by his own wit, unless a god were himself to come to him, and
easily by his will make him young or old. For verily but now thou
wast an old man and meanly clad, whereas now thou art like the gods,
who hold broad heaven."
|
|
| 201 |
Then
Odysseus of many wiles answered him, and said:
|
|
| 202 |
"Telemachus,
it beseems thee not to wonder overmuch that thy father is in the
house, or to be amazed. For thou mayest be sure no other Odysseus
will ever come hither; but I here, I, even such as thou seest me,
after sufferings and many wanderings, am come in the twentieth year
to my native land. But this, thou must know, is the work of Athene,
driver of the spoil, who makes me such as she will—for she has the
power—now like a beggar, and now again like a young man, and one
wearing fair raiment about his body. Easy it is for the gods, who
hold broad heaven, both to glorify a mortal man and to abase him."
|
| 213 |
So
saying, he sat down, and Telemachus, flinging his arms about his
noble father, wept and shed tears, and in the hearts of both arose
a longing for lamentation. And they wailed aloud more vehemently
than birds, sea-eagles, or vultures with crooked talons, whose young
the country-folk have taken from their nest before they were fledged;
even so piteously did they let tears fall from beneath their brows.
And now would the light of the sun have gone down upon their weeping,
had not Telemachus spoken to his father suddenly:
|
|
| 222 |
"In
what manner of ship, dear father, have sailors now brought thee
hither to Ithaca?Who did they derlare themselves to be? For nowise,
methinks, didst thou come hither on foot."
|
|
| 225 |
And
the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus answered him:
|
|
| 226 |
"Then
verily, my child, I will tell thee all the truth. The Phaeacians
brought me, men famed for their ships, who send other men too on
their way, whosoever comes to them. And they brought me as I slept
in a swift ship over the sea, and set me down in Ithaca, and gave
me glorious gifts, stores of bronze and gold and woven raiment.
These treasures, by the favour of the gods, are lying in caves.
And now I am come hither at the bidding of Athene, that we may take
counsel about the slaying of our foes. Come now, count me the wooers,
and tell their tale, that I may know how many they are and what
manner of men, and that I may ponder in my noble heart and decide
whether we two shall be able to maintain our cause against them
alone without others, or whether we shall also seek out others."
|
|
| 240 |
Then
wise Telemachus answered him:
|
|
| 241 |
"Father,
of a truth I have ever heard of thy great fame, that thou wast a
warrior in strength of hand and in wise counsel, but this thou sayest
is too great; amazement holds me. It could not be that two men should
fight against many men and mighty.
|
|
| 244 |
For
of the wooers there are not ten alone, or twice ten, but full many
more. Here as we are shalt thou straightway learn their number.
From Dulichium there are two and fifty chosen youths, and six serving
men attend them; from Same came four and twenty men; from Zacynthus
there are twenty youths of the Achaeans; and from Ithaca itself
twelve men, all of them the noblest, and with them is Medon, the
herald, and the divine minstrel, and two squires skilled in carving
meats. If we shall meet all these within the halls, bitter, I fear,
and with bane will be thy coming to avenge violence. Nay, do thou
consider, if thou canst bethink thee of any helper—one that would
aid us two with a ready heart."
|
|
| 258 |
Then
the much-enduring. goodly Odysseus answered him:
|
|
| 259 |
"Well,
then, I will tell thee, and do thou give heed and hearken to my
words, and consider whether for us two Athene, with father Zeus,
will be enough, or whether I shall bethink me of some other helper."
|
|
| 262 |
Then
wise Telemachus answered him:
|
|
| 263 |
"Good,
thou mayest be sure, are these two helpers whom thou dost mention,
though high in the clouds do they abide, and they rule over all
men alike and the immortal gods."
|
|
| 266 |
Then
the much-enduring, goodly Odysseus answered:
|
|
| 267 |
"Not
long of a surety will those two hold aloof from the mighty fray,
when between the wooers and us in my halls the might of Ares is
put to the test. But for the present, do thou go at daybreak to
thy house and join the company of the haughty wooers. As for me,
the swineherd will lead me later on to the city in the likeness
of a woeful and aged beggar. And if they shall put despite on me
in the house, let the heart in thy breast endure while I am evil
entreated, even if they drag me by the feet through the house to
the door, or hurl at me and smite me; still do thou endure to behold
it. Thou shalt indeed bid them cease their folly, seeking to dissuade
them with gentle words; yet in no wise will they hearken to thee,
for verily their day of doom is at hand. And another thing will
I tell thee, and do thou lay it to heart. When Athene, rich in counsel,
shall put it in my mind, I will nod to thee with my head; and do
thou thereupon, when thou notest it, take all the weapons of war
that lie in thy halls, and lay them away one and all in the secret
place of the lofty store-room. And as for the wooers, when they
miss the arms and question thee, do thou beguile them with gentle
words, saying:
|
|
| 288 |
" 'Out
of the smoke have I laid them, since they are no longer like those
which of old Odysseus left behind him when he went forth to Troy,
but are all befouled so far as the breath of the fire has reached
them. And furthermore this greater fear has the son of Cronos but
in my heart, lest haply, when heated with wine, you may set a quarrel
afoot among you and wound one another, and so bring shame on your
feast and on your wooing. For of itself does the iron draw a man
to it.'
|
|
| 295 |
"But
for us two alone do thou leave behind two swords and two spears,
and two ox-hide shields for us to grasp, that we may rush upon them
and seize them; while as for the wooers, Pallas Athene and Zeus,
the counsellor, will beguile them. And another thing will I tell
thee, and do thou lay it to heart. If in truth thou art my son and
of our blood, then let no one hear that Odysseus is at home; neither
let Laertes know it, nor the swineherd, nor any of the household,
nor Penelope herself; but by ourselves thou and I will learn the
temper of the women. Aye, and we will likewise make trial of many
a one of the serving men, and see where any of them honours us two
and fears us at heart, and who recks not of us and scorns thee,
a man so goodly."
|
|
| 308 |
Then
his glorious son answered him, and said:
|
|
| 309 |
"Father,
my spirit, methinks, thou shalt verily come to know hereafter, for
no slackness of will possesses me. But I think not that this plan
will be a gain to us both, and so I bid thee take thought. Long
time shalt thou vainly go about, making trial of each man as thou
visitest the farms, while in thy halls those others at their ease
are wasting thy substance in insolent wise, and there is no sparing.
|
|
| 316 |
Yet
verily, as for the women, I do bid thee learn who among them dishonour
thee, and who are guiltless. But of the men in the farmsteads I
would not that we should make trial, but that we should deal therewith
hereafter, it in very truth thou knowest some sign from Zeus, who
bears the aegis."
|
|
| 321 |
Thus
they spoke to one another, but meanwhile into Ithaca put the well-built
ship that brought Telemachus and all his comrades from Pylos; and
they, when they had come into the deep harbour, drew the black ship
up on the shore, while proud squires bore forth their armour and
straightway carried the beauteous gifts to the house of Clytius.
But they sent a herald forth to the house of Odysseus to bear word
to wise Penelope that Telemachus was at the farm, and had bidden
the ship to sail on to the city, lest the noble queen might grow
anxious and let round tears fall.
|
|
| 333 |
So
the two met, the herald and the goodly swineherd, on the self-same
errand, to bear tidings to the lady. And when they reached the palace
of the godlike king, the herald spoke out in the midst of the handmaids,
and said:
|
|
| 337 |
"Even
now, queen, thy son has come back from Pylos."
|
|
| 338 |
But
the swineherd came close to Penelope and told her all that her dear
son had bidden him say. And when he had fully told all that had
been commanded him, he went his way to the swine and left the courtyard
and the hall.
|
|
| 342 |
But
the wooers were dismayed and downcast in spirit, and forth they
went from the hall past the great wall of the court, and there before
the gates they sat down. Then among them Eurymachus, son of Polybus,
was the first to speak:
|
|
| 346 |
"My
friends, verily a great deed has been insolently brought to pass
by Telemachus, even this journey, and we deemed that he would never
see it accomplished. But come, let us launch a black ship, the best
we have, and let us get together seamen as rowers that they may
straightway bear tidings to those others speedily to return home."
|
|
| 351 |
Not
yet was the word fully uttered when Amphinomus, turning in his place,
saw a ship in the deep harbour and men furling the sail, and with
oars in their hands. Then, breaking into a merry laugh, he spoke
among his comrades:
|
|
| 355 |
"Let
us not be sending a message any more, for here they are at home.
Either some god told them of this, or they themselves caught sight
of the ship of Telemachus as she sailed by, but could not catch
her."
|
|
| 358 |
So
he spoke, and they rose up and went to the shore of the sea. Swiftly
the men drew up the black ship on the shore, and proud squires bore
forth their armour. Themselves meanwhile went all together to the
place of assembly, and none other would they suffer to sit with
them, either of the young men or the old. Then among them spoke
Antinous, son of Eupeithes:
|
|
| 364 |
"Lo,
now, see how the gods have delivered this man from destruction.
Day by day watchmen sat upon the windy heights, watch ever following
watch, and at set of sun we never spent a night upon the shore,
but sailing over the deep in our swift ship we waited for the bright
Dawn, lying in wait for Telemachus, that we might take him and slay
the man himself; howbeit meanwhile some god has brought him home.
But, on our part, let us here devise for him a woeful death, even
for Telemachus, and let him not escape from out our hands, for I
deem that while he lives this work of ours will not prosper. For
he is himself shrewd in counsel and in wisdom, and the people nowise
show us favour any more. Nay, come, before he gathers the Achaeans
to the place of assembly—for methinks he will in no wise be slow
to act, but will be full of wrath, and rising up will declare among
them all how that we contrived against him utter destruction, but
did not catch him; and they will not praise us when they hear of
our evil deeds. Beware, then, lest they work us some harm and drive
us out from our country, and we come to the land of strangers. Nay,
let us act first, and seize him in the field far from the city,
or on the road; and his substance let us ourselves keep, and his
wealth, dividing them fairly among us; though the house we would
give to his mother to possess, and to him who weds her. Howbeit
if this plan does not please you, but you choose rather that he
should live and keep all the wealth of his fathers, let us not continue
to devour his store of pleasant things as we gather together here,
but let each man from his own hall woo her with his gifts and seek
to win her; and she then would wed him who offers most, and who
comes as her fated lord."
|
|
| 393 |
So
he spoke, and they were all hushed in silence. Then Amphinomus addressed
their assembly, and spoke among them. He was the glorious son of
the prince Nisus, son of Aretias, and he led the wooers who came
from Dulichium, rich in wheat and in grass, and above all the others
he pleased Penelope with his words, for he had an understanding
heart. He it was who with good intent addressed their assembly,
and spoke among them:
|
|
| 400 |
"Friends,
I surely would not choose to kill Telemachus; a dread thing is it
to slay one of royal stock. Nay, let us first seek to learn the
will of the gods. If the oracles of great Zeus approve, I will myself
slay him, and bid all the others do so; but if the gods turn us
from the act, I bid you desist."
|
|
| 406 |
Thus
spoke Amphinomus, and his word was pleasing to them. So they arose
straightway and went to the house of Odysseus, and entering in,
sat down on the polished seats.
|
|
| 409 |
Then
the wise Penelope took other counsel, to show herself to the wooers,
overweening in their insolence. For she had learned of the threatened
death of her son in her halls, for the herald Medon told her, who
had heard their counsel. So she went her way toward the hall with
her handmaids. But when the fair lady reached the wooers, she stood
by the doorpost of the well-built hall, holding before her face
her shining veil; and she rebuked Antinous, and spoke, and addressed
him:
|
|
| 418 |
"Antinous,
full of insolence, deviser of evil! and yet it is thou, men say,
that dost excel among all of thy years in the land of Ithaca in
counsel and in speech. But thou, it seems, art not such a man. Madman!
why dost thou devise death and fate for Telemachus, and carest not
for suppliants, for whom Zeus is witness. 'Tis an impious thing
to plot evil one against another. Dost thou not know of the time
when thy father came to this house a fugitive in terror of the people?
For of a truth they were greatly wroth with him because he had joined
Taphian pirates and harried the Thesprotians, who were in league
with us. Him, then, they were minded to slay, and take from him
his life by violence, and utterly to devour his great and pleasant
livelihood; but Odysseus held them back, and stayed them despite
their eagerness. His house it is that thou consumest now without
atonement, and wooest his wife, and seekest to slay his son, and
on me thou bringest great distress. Nay, forbear, I charge thee,
and bid the rest forbear."
|
|
| 434 |
Then
Eurymachus, son of Polybus, answered her:
|
|
| 435 |
"Daughter
of Icarius, wise Penelope, be of good cheer, and let not these things
distress thy heart. That man lives not, nor shall live, nor shall
ever be born, who shall lay hands upon thy son Telemachus while
I live and behold the light upon the earth. For thus will I speak
out to thee, and verily it shall be brought to pass. Quickly shall
that man's black blood flow forth about my spear; for of a truth
me, too, did Odysseus the sacker of cities often set upon his knees,
and put roast meat in my hands, and hold to my lips red wine. Therefore
Telemachus is far the dearest of all men to me, and I bid him have
no fear of death, at least from the wooers; but from the gods can
no man avoid it."
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| 448 |
Thus
he spoke to cheer her, but against that son he was himself plotting
death. So she went up to her bright upper chamber and then bewailed
Odysseus, her dear husband, until flashing-eyed Athene cast sweet
sleep upon her eyelids.
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| 452 |
But
at evening the goodly swineherd came back to Odysseus and his son,
and they were busily making ready their supper, and had slain a
boar of a year old. Then Athene came close to Odysseus, son of Laertes,
and smote him with her wand, and again made him an old man; and
mean raiment she put about his body, lest the swineherd might look
upon him and know him, and might go to bear tidings to constant
Penelope, and not hold the secret fast in his heart.
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| 460 |
Now
Telemachus spoke first to the swineherd, and said:
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| 461 |
"Thou
hast come, goodly Eumaeus. What news is there in the city? Have
the proud wooers by this time come home from their ambush, or are
they still watching for me where they were, to take me on my homeward
way?"
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| 464 |
To
him, then, swineherd Eumaeus, didst thou make answer and say:
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| 465 |
"I
was not minded to go about the city, asking and enquiring of this;
my heart bade me with all speed to come back hither when I had given
my message. But there joined me a swift messenger from thy companions,
a herald, who was the first to tell the news to thy mother. And
this further thing I know, for I saw it with my eyes. I was now
above the city, as I went on my way, where the hill of Hermes is,
when I saw a swift ship putting into our harbour, and there were
many men in her, and she was laden with shields and double-pointed
spears. And I thought it was they, but I have no knowledge."
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| 476 |
So
he spoke, and the strong and mighty Telemachus smiled and with his
eyes he glanced at his father, but shunned the swineherd's eye.
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| 478 |
And
when they had ceased from their labour and had made ready the meal,
they fell to feasting, nor did their hearts lack aught of the equal
feast. But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink,
they bethought them of rest, and took the gift of sleep.
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