“Enough; I know; thy words are heard by one Who understands them. Let us then depart. Lead thou the way; and if thou hast a staff, Cut from the wood to lean on, give it me, Since, as thou say’st, we have a slippery
He spake, and o’er his shoulders flung a scrip, Old, cracked, and hanging by a twisted thong. Eumaeus gave the staff he asked, and both Went forth; the dogs and herdsmen stayed to guard The lodge. The swineherd led his master on Townward, a squalid beggar to the sight, And aged, leaning on a staff, and wrapped In sordid rags.
There by the rugged way, As they drew near the town, they passed a fount Wrought by the hand of man, and pouring forth Its pleasant streams, from which the citizens Drew water. Ithacus and Neritus Founded it with Polyctor, and a grove Of alders feeding on the moistened earth Grew round it on all sides. The ice-cold rill Gushed from a lofty rock, upon whose brow An altar stood, at which the passersby Worshipped, and laid their offerings for the Nymphs.
There did Melanthius, son of Dolius, meet The twain, as he was driving to the town The finest goats of all the flocks, to make A banquet for the suitors; with him went Two shepherds, following the flock. As soon As he beheld Eumaeus and his guest, He railed at them with rude and violent words, That made the anger of Ulysses rise.
“See that vile fellow lead the vile about! Thus ever doth some god join like with like. Thou worthless swineherd! whither wouldst thou take This hungry, haunting beggar-man, this pest Of feasts, who at the posts of many a door Against them rubs his shoulders, asking crusts, Tripods or cauldrons never. Shouldst thou leave The wretch to me, to watch my stalls, and sweep The folds, and bring fresh branches to the kids, He might by drinking whey get stouter thighs.