He spake; the ancient woman solemnly Swore by the gods, and when the rite was o’er Drew wine into the jars, and poured the meal Into the well-sewn skins. Telemachus Entered the hall and joined the suitor train.
Then did the blue-eyed goddess turn her thoughts To other plans, and taking on herself The semblance of Telemachus, she ranged The city, speaking to each man in turn, And bidding him at nightfall to repair To where the good ship lay. That gallant ship She begged of the renowned Noëmon, son Of Phronius, who with cheerful grace complied.
The sun went down, the city streets lay all In shadow. Then she drew the good ship down Into the sea, and brought and put on board The appointments every well-built galley needs, And moored her at the bottom of the port, Where, in a throng, obedient to the word Of Pallas, round her came her gallant crew.
With yet a new device the blue-eyed maid Went to the palace of the godlike chief Ulysses, where she poured a gentle sleep Over the suitors. As they drank she made Their senses wander, and their hands let fall The goblets. Now no longer at the board They sat, but sallied forth, and through the town Went to their slumbers, for the power of sleep Had fallen heavily upon their lids. Then blue-eyed Pallas from those sumptuous halls Summoned Telemachus. She took the form And voice of Mentor, and bespake him thus:—
“Telemachus, already at their oars Sit thy well-armed companions and await Thy coming; let us go without delay.”
Thus having spoken, Pallas led the way With rapid footsteps which he followed fast; Till having reached the galley and the sea They found their long-haired comrades at the beach, And thus the gallant prince Telemachus Bespake them: “Hither, comrades, let us bring The sea-stores from the dwelling where they lie; My mother knows not of it, nor her maids; The secret has been told to one alone.”