me
time the sound of oars is heard and Telemachus' vessel passes by,
pursued by the suitors. Eumaeus, too weak to render aid, continues to
wail, when suddenly Odysseus rises up before him saying; "The gods will
conquer." The old man, not recognizing his king continues to accuse
the Fates, and tells the stranger, how badly things have fared since
the king's absence.--"And Penelope, my friend?" asks Odysseus.
"Penelope is faithful," answers the servant. Then "Be it known to you
friend, that Oydsseus will return" quoth the stranger. Struck by a dim
foreboding of the truth Eumaeus promises to lead the stranger into the
queen's palace this very night.

While they converse, Telemachus calls upon Eumaeus for help, and when
the vessels come into sight the prince is seen fighting against his
pursuers. He slays one of them, but their number far exceeds that of
his own followers. Odysseus, who has {384} vainly looked for the boat
which the suitors have stolen, throws his club at them, and springs
into his son's vessel just in time to rescue the lad, whose sword has
been broken, but who continues to fight, nothing daunted. Odysseus
kills some of his foes and pushes their vessel far off, after which
they escape, while the father carries his fainting son on shore. At
this moment Eumaeus recognizes his mighty guest. Telemachus still half
unconscious, calls for another sword. When he at last opens his eyes
he stares in wonder at the mysterious stranger whom he deems a god in
beggar's garb. Eumaeus informs him, that the stranger brings news of
their long lost king, which fills the son's heart with joy. At this
point the low songs of the nymphs are heard, welcoming the hero to
Ithaca while Laertes, slowly descending from the heights, prophesies
Odysseus' return as one in a dream. Odysseus can hardly restrain his
tears at seeing his father looking so old and so woebegone. He meets
him humbly, and all their voices mingle in a chorus of triumph and
welcome, while Odysseus stepping forward, vows that he will annihilate
the suitors.

The second act opens in Penelope's room.

She sits at her loom, looking out over the far stretching sea and
bewailing her lot. Behind the scene the evoes and drunken cries of the
suitors are heard and with bitter tears she prays to the gods to help
her, and to protect her son, whom she knows to be on the treacherous
waves.--Suddenly {385} Hyperion rushes in and prostrating himself at
her feet o