Now come in, beloved child, And let my heart rejoice that once again I have thee here, so newly come from far. For ’tis not often that thou visitest Herdsmen and fields, but dwellest in the town— Such is thy will—beholding day by day The wasteful pillage of the suitor-train.”
And thus discreet Telemachus replied: “So be it, father; for thy sake I came To see thee with these eyes, and hear thee speak And tell me if my mother dwells within The palace yet; or has some wooer led The queen away, his bride, and does the couch Of great Ulysses lie untapestried, With ugly cobwebs gathering over it?”
And then the master swineherd spake in turn: “Most true it is that with a constant mind The queen inhabits yet thy palace halls, And wastes in tears her wretched nights and days.”
So speaking he received his brazen lance, And over the stone threshold passed the prince Into the lodge. Ulysses yielded up His seat to him; Telemachus forbade.
“Nay, stranger, sit; it shall be ours to find Elsewhere a seat in this our lodge, and he Who should provide it is already here.”
He spake; Ulysses turned, and took again His place; the swineherd made a pile of twigs And covered it with skins, on which sat down The dear son of Ulysses. Next he brought Dishes of roasted meats which yet remained, Part of the banquet of the day before, And heaped the canisters with bread, and mixed The rich wines in a wooden bowl. He sat Right opposite Ulysses. All put forth Their hands and shared the meats upon the board; And when the calls of thirst and hunger ceased, Thus to the swineherd said Telemachus:—
“Whence, father, is this stranger, and how brought By seamen to the coast of Ithaca? And who are they that brought him?—for I deem He came not over to our isle on foot.”