cian king. Then seating herself beside him she consulted with him as to
the best means of ridding his palace of its shameless occupants.

In order to prevent his being recognized she caused him to assume the form
of an aged mendicant. His limbs became decrepid, his brown locks vanished,
his eyes grew dim and bleared, and the regal robes given to him by king
Alcinous were replaced by a tattered garb of dingy hue, which hung loosely
round his shrunken form. Athene then desired him to seek shelter in the hut
of Eumaeus his own swine-herd.

Eumaeus received the old beggar hospitably, kindly ministered to his wants,
and even confided to him his distress at the long continued absence of his
beloved old master, and his regrets at being compelled by the unruly
invaders of his house, to slaughter for their use all the finest and
fattest of the herd.

It chanced that the following morning Telemachus returned from his long and
fruitless search for his father, and going first to the hut of Eumaeus,
heard from him the story of the seeming beggar whom he promised to
befriend. Athene now urged Odysseus to make himself known to his son; and
at her touch his beggar's rags disappeared, and he stood before Telemachus
arrayed in royal robes and in the full strength and vigour of manhood. So
imposing was the appearance of the hero that at first the young prince
thought he must be a god; but when {321} he was convinced that it was
indeed his beloved father, whose prolonged absence had caused him so much
grief, he fell upon his neck and embraced him with every expression of
dutiful affection.

Odysseus charged Telemachus to keep his return a secret, and concerted with
him a plan whereby they might rid themselves of the detested suitors. In
order to carry it into effect Telemachus was to induce his mother to
promise her hand to the one who could conquer in shooting with the famous
bow of Odysseus, which the hero had left behind when he went to Troy,
deeming it too precious a treasure to be taken with him. Odysseus now
resumed his beggar's dress and appearance and accompanied his son to the
palace, before the door of which lay his faithful dog Argo, who, though
worn and feeble with age and neglect, instantly recognized his master. In
his delight the poor animal made a last effort to welcome him; but his
strength was exhausted, and he expired at his feet.

When Odysseus entered his ancestral halls he was mocked and reviled by the
riotous sui