Telemachus Arrives

1Meantime Odysseus and that noble hind
The swineherd, in the lodge, at early dawn,
Lighted a fire, prepared a meal, and sent
The herdsmen forth to drive the swine afield.
The dogs, so apt to bark, came fawning round,
And barked not as Telemachus drew near.
Odysseus heard the sound of coming feet,
And marked the crouching dogs, and suddenly
Bespoke Eumaeus thus with winged words: —

2“Eumaeus, without doubt some friend of yours,
Or someone known familiarly, is near.
There is no barking of the dogs; they fawn
Around him, and I hear the sound of feet.”

3Scarce had he spoken, when within the porch
Stood his dear son. The swineherd starting up,
Surprised, let fall the vessels from his hands
In which he mingled the rich wines, and flew
To meet his master; kissed him on the brow;
Kissed both his shining eyes and both his hands,
With many tears. As when a father takes
Into his arms a son whom tenderly
He loves, returning from a distant land
In the tenth year —his only son, the child
Of his old age, for whom he long has borne
Hardship and grief —so to Telemachus
The swineherd clung, and kissed him over and over,
As one escaped from death, and, shedding still
Warm tears, bespoke him thus with winged words: —

4“You come, O Telemachus! the light
Is not more sweet to me. I never thought
To see you more when you had once embarked
For Pylos. Now come in, beloved child,
And let my heart rejoice that once again
I have you here, so newly come from far.
For it is not often that you visit
Herdsmen and fields, but dwell in the town —
Such is your will —beholding day by day
The wasteful pillage of the suitor-train.”