d in sorrows, I grudge not
that such a one should wait upon me."

"Thou speakest as a prudent man," said Penelope, "and I have such an
aged dame as thou describest among my household. She was the first who
took my ill-fated husband in her arms when his mother bare him, and
she nursed him tenderly and well. She shall wash thy feet, old though
she be, and feeble." Then she called Eurycleia, who was sitting near,
and said to her: "Come hither, nurse, and wash the stranger's feet.
Who knows but thy master is now in like evil case, grown old before
his time through care and misery?"

When she heard that, the old woman lifted up her voice and wept:
"Odysseus," she cried, "child of my sorrow, what have I not borne for
thee! Pious thou wast, and righteous in all thy dealings, yet Zeus
hath chosen thee out from among all men to be the object of his hate.
Yea, and perchance even now he is mocked in the house of strangers, as
these women were lately mocking thee. Yea, I will wash thee, as
Penelope bids me, and for thy sake also, for my heart is moved with
pity because of thy woes."

With such speed as her years allowed, the dame went and fetched warm
water, and a vessel for washing the feet. She set them down in front
of Odysseus, and before she began her task, stood for some time
peering curiously into his face. "Hear me, friend," she said, after a
while, "of all the strangers that ever entered these doors, ne'er saw
I one so like unto Odysseus as thou art, in form, and in voice, and in
feet."

"So said everyone who saw us together," answered Odysseus. But her
words filled him with alarm, and recalled to his mind an old scar,
just above the knee, caused by a wound which he had received from a
wild boar while hunting in his boyhood in the valleys of Parnassus,
during a visit to Autolycus, Penelope's father. If his old nurse
should discover the scar she would be certain to recognise him, and
the consequences of the premature discovery might be fatal. However,
he had now no excuse for declining the bath, so he drew back his chair
into the shadow, still hoping to escape detection.

But Eurycleia, whose suspicions were already aroused, was not thus to
be evaded. As she handled the limb her fingers felt the well-known
mark, and she let the foot fall with a loud cry. The vessel was
overset, and the water ran over the floor. Half laughing and half
weeping, the old woman fell upon his neck. "Thou art Odysseus, dear
child!" she crie