Farewell Gifts

47Then spoke discreet Telemachus again: —
“Atrides, seek not to detain me long,
Though I could sit contentedly a year
Beside you, never longing for my home,
Nor for my parents, such delight I find
In listening to your words; but even now,
In hallowed Pylos, my companions grow
Weary, while you delay my return.
The gifts —whatever you choose to bestow —
Let them be such as I can treasure up.
The steeds to Ithaca I may not take,
I leave them to adorn your retinue;
For you are ruler over a realm of plains,
Where grows much lotus, and sweet grasses spring,
And wheat and rye, and the luxuriant stalks
Of the white barley. But in Ithaca
Are no broad grounds for coursing, meadows none.
Goats graze amid its fields, a fairer land
Than those where horses feed. No isle that lies
Within the deep has either roads for steeds
Or meadows, least of all has Ithaca.”

48He spoke; the valiant Menelaus smiled,
And kindly touched him with his hand and said: —

49“Dear son, you come of a generous stock;
Your words declare it. I will change my gifts,
As well I may. Of all that in my house
Are treasured up, the choicest I will give,
And the most precious. I will give a cup
Wrought all of silver save its brim of gold.
It is the work of Hephaestus. Phaedimus
The hero, King of Sidon, gave it me,
When I was coming home, and underneath
His roof was sheltered. Now it shall be yours.”

50So talked they with each other. Meantime came
Those who prepared the banquet to the halls
Of the great monarch. Bringing sheep they came
And strengthening wine. Their wives, who on their brows
Wore showy fillets, brought the bread, and thus
Within the house of Menelaus all
Was bustle, setting forth the evening meal.