He spake, and a dark cloud of sorrow came Over Laertes. With both hands he grasped The yellow dust, and over his white head Shed it with piteous groans. Ulysses felt His heart within him melted; the hot breath Rushed through his nostrils as he looked upon His well-beloved father, and he sprang And kissed and clasped him in his arms, and said:—
“Nay, I am he, my father; I myself Am he of whom thou askest. I am come To mine own country in the twentieth year. But calm thyself, refrain from tears, and grieve No more, and let me tell thee, in a word, I have slain all the suitors in my halls, And so avenged their insolence and crimes.”
And then Laertes spake again, and said: “If now thou be Ulysses, my lost son, Give some plain token, that I may believe.”
Ulysses, the sagacious, answered thus: “First, then, behold with thine own eyes the scar Which once the white tusk of a forest boar Inflicted on Parnassus, when I made The journey thither, by thy own command, And by my gracious mother’s, to receive Gifts which her father, King Autolycus, Once promised, when he came to Ithaca. And listen to me further; let me name The trees which in thy well-tilled orchard grounds Thou gavest me; I asked them all of thee, When by thy side I trod the garden walks, A little boy. We went among the trees, And thou didst name them. Of the pear thirteen, And of the apple ten thou gavest me, And forty fig-trees; and thou didst engage To give me fifty rows of vines, each row Of growth to feed the winepress. Grapes are there Of every flavor when the hours of Jove Shall nurse them into ripeness from on high.”
He spake; a trembling seized the old man’s heart And knees, as he perceived how true were all The tokens which Ulysses gave. He threw Round his dear son his arms. The hardy chief, Ulysses, drew him fainting to his heart. But when the old man’s strength revived, and calm Came o’er his spirit, thus he spake again:—