refuge, be my witnesses, that now Ulysses is in his own land again, And sits or walks observant of the deeds Of wrong, and planning vengeance, yet to fall On all the suitors; such the augury Which I beheld when in the gallant barque I sat and told it to Telemachus.”
And thus the sage Penelope replied:
“O stranger! may thy saying be fulfilled! Then shalt thou have such thanks and such rewards That all who greet thee shall rejoice with thee.”
So talked they with each other. In the space Before the palace of Ulysses stood The suitors, pleased with hurling quoits and spears On the smooth pavement, where their insolence So oft was seen. But when the supper-hour Was near, and from the fields the cattle came, Driven by the herdsmen, Medon—he whom most They liked of all the heralds, and who sat Among them at the feast—bespake them thus:—
“Youths! since ye now have had your pastime here, Come in, and help prepare the evening meal; At the due hour a banquet is not ill.”
He spake; the suitors hearkened and obeyed, And rose, and came into the halls, and laid Their cloaks upon the benches and the thrones, And slaughtered well-fed sheep and fading goats, And made a victim of a pampered brawn, And a stalled ox, preparing for the feast.
Meantime Ulysses and that noble hind The swineherd hastened to begin their walk To town, and thus the master swineherd spake:—
“Since, stranger, ’tis thy wish to pass today Into the city, as my master bade— Though I by far prefer that thou remain A guardian of the stalls, yet much I fear My master, and am sure that he would chide, And harsh the upbraidings of a master are— Let us depart; the day is now far spent, And chill will be the air of eventide.”
Ulysses, the sagacious, answered thus: