He spake, and touched the coursers with the lash; And through the city rapidly they went And toward the plain, and all day long they shook The yoke upon their necks. The sun went down: The roads all lay in darkness as they came To Pherae, and the house of Diodes, Whose father was Orsilochus, and he The offspring of Alpheius. There that night They slept; their host was liberal of his cheer. But when appeared the daughter of the Dawn, The rosy-fingered Morn, they yoked the steeds And climbed the sumptuous car, and drove afield From underneath the echoing portico. The son of Nestor plied the lash; the steeds Flew not unwillingly, and quickly reached The lofty citadel of Pylos. There Telemachus bespake his comrade thus:—
“Wilt thou consent to do what I shall ask, O son of Nestor? ’Tis our boast that we Are friends because our fathers were; besides, We are of equal age, and journeying thus Has made our friendship firmer. Take me not, O foster-child of Jove, beyond the spot Where lies my galley, lest against my will The aged Nestor should detain me here Through kindness, when I needs must hasten home.”
He spake, and then the son of Nestor mused How what his friend desired might best be done. And this seemed wisest after careful thought: He turned the chariot to the ship and shore, And taking out the garments and the gold— Beautiful gifts which Menelaus gave— He put them in the galley’s stern, and thus Bespake Telemachus with winged words:—
“Embark in haste, and summon all thy crew On board before I reach my home and tell The aged king. I know how vehement His temper is; he will not let thee go, But hastening hither to enforce thy stay, At Pylos, will not, I am sure, go back Without thee; his displeasure will be great.”