“Telemachus is certainly resolved To butcher us. He goes to bring allies From sandy Pylos or the Spartan coast, He is so bent on slaughter. Or perhaps He visits the rich land of Ephyrè In search of deadly poisons to be thrown Into a cup and end us all at once.”
Then said another of the haughty youths:— “Who knows but, wandering in his hollow barque, He too may perish, far from all his friends, Just as Ulysses perished? This would bring Increase of labor; it would cast on us The trouble to divide his goods, and give His palace to his mother, and to him Who takes the woman as his wedded wife.”
So spake they, but Telemachus went down To that high-vaulted room, his father’s, where Lay heaps of gold and brass, and garments store In chests, and fragrant oils. And there stood casks Of delicate old wine and pure, a drink For gods, in rows against the wall, to wait If ever, after many hardships borne, Ulysses should return. Upon that room Close-fitting double doors were shut, and there Was one who night and day kept diligent watch, A woman, Eurycleia, child of Ops, Peisenor’s son. Telemachus went in And called her to him, and bespake her thus:—
“Nurse, let sweet wine be drawn into my jars, The finest next to that which thou dost keep Expecting our unhappy lord, if yet The nobly born Ulysses shall escape The doom of death and come to us again.
Fill twelve, and fit the covers close, and pour Meal into well-sewn skins, and let the tale Be twenty measures of the flour of wheat. This none but thou must know. Let all these things Be brought together; then, as night shuts in, When to her upper chamber, seeking rest, My mother shall withdraw, I come and take What thou providest for me.
I am bound For Sparta and for Pylos in the sands, To gather news concerning the return Of my dear father, if I haply may.”