And thus discreet Telemachus replied: “If thou desire to come on board my ship, I shall not hinder thee. Come with us then, And take a friendly share in what we have.”
So saying he received his brazen spear, And laid it on the good ship’s deck, and went Himself on board, and, taking at the stern His place, he seated Theoclymenus Beside him. Then the mariners cast loose The hawsers, and Telemachus gave forth The order to prepare for sea. They heard And eagerly obeyed; they raised the mast, A pine-tree stem—and, bringing it to stand In its deep socket, bound it there with cords, And hoisted by their strongly twisted thongs The ship’s white sails. The blue-eyed Pallas sent A favorable and fresh-blowing wind, That swept the sky to drive more speedily The galley through the salt-sea waves. They came To Cruni, and to Chalcis pleasantly Watered by rivers. Now the sun went down; Night closed around their way, but onward still A favorable wind from Jupiter Toward Pherae bore them, and the hallowed coast Of Elis, where the Epeian race bear sway, And then among the isles whose rocky peaks Rise from the waters. Here Telemachus Mused thoughtfully on what his fate might be— To perish by the ambush or escape.
Meantime Ulysses and the swineherd sat At meat within the lodge; the other men Were at the board, and when the calls of thirst And hunger ceased, Ulysses spake to try The swineherd, whether he were bent to show Yet further kindness, and entreat his stay, Or whether he would send him to the town.
“Eumaeus, hearken thou, and all the rest. Tomorrow ’tis my wish to go to town, That I may beg, and be no charge to thee And thy companions.