The attendants there Brought meats, the matron of the household bread, And both were set before them. Meantime stopped Ulysses with the noble swineherd near The palace, for around them in the air Came the sweet murmurs of a lyre. Just then Phemius, the minstrel, had begun his song, Ulysses took the swineherd’s hand, and said:—
“Eumaeus, this must be the noble pile In which Ulysses dwelt, for easily ’Tis known among the others that are near.
Rooms over rooms are here; around its court Are walls and battlements, and folding-doors Shut fast the entrance; no man may contemn Its strength. And I perceive that many guests Banquet within; the smoke of fat goes up, And the sweet lyre is heard; the gods have given Its music to accompany the feast.”
And then, Eumaeus, thou didst make reply:
“Thou speakest rightly, and in other things Thou art not slow of thought. Now let us think What we shall do. First enter, if thou wilt, The sumptuous rooms, while I remain without; Or, if it please thee, I will enter first, While thou remainest; yet delay not long, Lest someone, seeing thee, should deal a blow, Or drive thee hence. I pray thee, think of this.”
Ulysses, the great sufferer, answered thus: “Enough; I know; thy words are heard by one Who understands them. Go before me, then, And leave me here. I am not quite unused To blows and stripes, and patient is my mood, For greatly have I suffered, both at sea And in the wars; and I submit to bear This also. But the