Eurycleia’s Sorrow

33She spoke; the aged handmaid hid her face
With both her hands, and, shedding bitter tears,
Thus sorrowfully to the queen replied: —

34“My heart is sad for you, my son; and yet
I can do nothing. Can it be that Zeus
Hates you beyond all other? though yourself
So reverent to the gods? No man on earth
Has burned so many thighs of fatling beasts
And chosen hecatombs as you to Zeus
The Thunderer, with prayer that you may reach
A calm old age, and rear your glorious son
To manhood; yet the god has cut you off
From your return forever. Even now
Perchance the women of some princely house
Which he has entered in some distant land
Scoff at him as these wretched creatures scoff
At you, O stranger, who, to shun their taunts
And insults, will not suffer them to wash
Your feet. The sage Penelope commands,
And I am not unwilling. I will wash
Your feet, both for her sake and for your own;
For deeply am I moved at sight of you.
Hear what I say: of strangers in distress
Come many hither, yet have I beheld
No one who bears, in shape and voice and feet,
Such likeness to our absent lord as you.”

35Odysseus, the sagacious, thus replied:
“O aged woman, so has it been said
By all who have beheld both him and me.
They all declare that we are very like
Each other; you in this have spoken well.”