d age.

But the ship of Telemachus had now reached the land, and he sent some
of his men to tell Penelope that her son was come back, while he
himself went to the house of Eumaius. Glad indeed was the swineherd to
see him, for he had not thought to look upon his face again. And
Telemachus said, "Is my mother yet in her home, or has she wedded
another, and is the bridal couch of Odysseus covered with the webs of
spiders?" "Nay, she is still in her home," said Eumaius; "but night
and day she sheds bitter tears in her grievous sorrow." Then
Telemachus spied the beggar; and when he learned his story from
Eumaius, he was troubled. "What can we do with him? Shall I give him a
cloak and a sword and send him away? I am afraid to take him to my
father's house, for the suitors may flout and jeer him." Then the
beggar put in his word: "Truly these suitors meet us at every turn.
How comes it all about? Do you yield to them of your own free will, or
do the people hate you, or have you a quarrel with your kinsfolk? If
these withered arms of mine had but the strength of their youth, soon
should some of these suitors smart for their misdeeds; and if their
numbers were too great for me to deal with, better so to die than see
them thus devour the land." "Nay, friend, your guesses are wrong,"
said Telemachus. "The people do not hate me, and I have no feud with
my kindred; but these suitors have swarmed in upon us like bees from
all the country round about."

Presently Eumaius rose up to go with tidings to Penelope, and when he
was gone a glorious form stood before the door, but the eyes only of
Odysseus saw her, and he knew that it was Pallas Athene. "The time is
come," she said; "show thyself to Telemachus and make ready with him
for the great vengeance." Then Athene passed her golden staff over his
body, and straightway his tattered raiment became a white and
glistening robe. Once more the hue of youth came back to his cheek and
the golden locks flowed down over his shoulders, so that Telemachus
marveled, and said, "Who art thou, stranger, that thou lookest like
one of the bright gods? But now thy garment was torn, and thy hands
shook with age." "Nay, I am no god," answered the man of many toils
and sorrows, "I am thy father." Then Odysseus kissed his son, and the
tears ran down his cheek, but Telemachus would not believe. "Men
change not thus," he said, "from age to youth, from squalor and
weakness to strength and splendor." "It is t