he work of Athene," said
the stranger, "who can make all things fresh and fair, and if I be not
Odysseus, none other will ever come to Ithaka." Then Telemachus put
his arms around his father and wept, and the cry of their weeping went
up together, and Odysseus said, "The time for vengeance draws nigh.
How many are these suitors?" "They may be told by scores," said
Telemachus, "and what are two against so many?" "They are enough,"
answered Odysseus, "if only Zeus and Athene be on their side."

Then Telemachus went to the house of Odysseus, where the suitors were
greatly cast down because their messengers had not been able to kill
him. And Penelope came forth from her chamber, beautiful as Artemis
and Aphrodite, and she kissed her son, who told her how he had
journeyed to Sparta, seeking in vain for his father. But Theoklymenus,
the seer, put in a word, and said, "Odysseus is now in Ithaka, and is
making ready for the day of the great vengeance."

Presently Eumaius went back to his house, and there he found the
beggar, for Odysseus had laid aside his glistening robe and the glory
of youth had faded away again from his face. So they went to the city
together, and sat by the beautiful fountain, whither the people came
to draw water, and Melanthius, the goatherd, as he drove the flock for
the suitors, spied them out and reviled them. "Thieves love thieves,
they say; where hast thou found this vagabond, friend swineherd?" and
he pushed Odysseus with his heel. Then Odysseus was wroth, and would
have slain him, but he restrained himself, and Eumaius prayed aloud to
the nymphs that they would bring his master home. And Melanthius said,
"Pray on, as thou wilt, but Telemachus shall soon lie low, for
Odysseus shall see Ithaka no more." Then he drove the goats onwards to
the house of Odysseus, and Eumaius and the beggar followed him, and as
they communed by the way, the swineherd bade him go first into the
house, lest any finding him without might jeer or hurt him. But the
beggar would not. "Many a hard buffet have I had by land and by sea,"
he said, "and I am not soon cast down." Soon they stood before the
door, and a dog worn with age strove to rise and welcome him, but his
strength was gone, and Odysseus wept when he saw his hound, Argos, in
such evil plight. Then, turning to Eumaius, he said, "The hound is
comely in shape. Was he swift and strong in his youth?" "Never
anything escaped him in the chase; but there are none to car