Ithaca— So many woo my mother and consume Our substance. She rejects not utterly Their hateful suit, nor yet will give consent And end it. They go on to waste my wealth, And soon will end me also; but the event Rests with the gods.—And go thou now with speed, Eumaeus, father, to Penelope, And say that I am safe, and just returned From Pylos. I remain within the lodge. And then come back as soon as thou hast told The queen alone. Let none of all the Greeks Hear aught; for they are plotting harm to me.”
Then thus, Eumaeus, thou didst make reply: “Enough, I see it all, thy words are said To one who understands them. But, I pray, Direct me whether in my way to take A message to Laertes, the distressed. While sorrowing for Ulysses he o’ersaw The labors of the field, and ate and drank, As he had appetite, with those who wrought. But since thy voyage to the Pylian coast They say he never takes his daily meals As he was wont, nor oversees the work, But sits and mourns and sighs and pines away, Until his limbs are shrivelled to the bone.”