“Dear father, tell me in what galley came The mariners who brought thee. Of what race Claim they to be? For certainly, I think, Thou cam’st not hither travelling on foot.”
Ulysses, the great sufferer, thus replied: “My son, thou shalt be answered faithfully. Men of a race renowned for seamanship, Phaeacians, brought me hither. They convey Abroad the strangers coming to their isle, And, bearing me in one of their swift barques Across the sea, they landed me asleep In Ithaca. Rich were the gifts they gave— Much brass and gold, and garments from the loom; These, so the gods have counselled, lie concealed Among the hollow rocks, and I am come, Obeying Pallas, to consult with thee How to destroy our enemies. Give now The number of the suitors; let me know How many there may be, and who they are, That with a careful judgment I may weigh The question whether we shall fall on them— We two alone—or must we seek allies.”
Then spake discreet Telemachus again: “O father, I have heard of thy great fame My whole life long—how mighty is thy arm, How wise thy counsels. Thou hast said great things, And I am thunderstruck. It cannot be That two alone should stand before a crowd Of valiant men. They are not merely ten— These suitors—nor twice ten, but many more; Hear, then, their number. From Dulichium come Fifty and two, the flower of all its youth, With whom are six attendants. Samos sends Twice twelve, and twenty more Achaian chiefs Come from Zacynthus. Twelve from Ithaca; The noblest of the isle are these—with whom Medon the herald comes—a bard whose song Is heavenly—and two servants skilled to spread The banquet. Should we in the palace halls Assault all these, I fear lest the revenge For all thy wrongs would end most bitterly And grievously for thee. Now, if thy thought Be turned to some ally, bethink thee who Will combat for us with a willing heart.”