from Lesbos, came to Euboea; thence, after sacrifice to Poseidon, I steered due south, and parting from Diomede at Argos continued my voyage, and landed safe in Pylos.  Thus it happened that I was not witness of the good or evil fortunes of the other Greeks on their voyage home, and know only by rumour how they fared.  Of Agamemnon’s fate thou hast surely heard thyself, how he was murdered on his own hearth by the treachery of AEgisthus, and how the murder was avenged by Orestes.  Happy the father who has such a son!  And such, methinks, art thou.”

“Ay,” answered Telemachus, when Nestor had finished his long story, “I have heard of that glorious deed; and would to heaven that by the might of my hands I might so take vengeance on the evil men who have come to woo my mother, and who fill my house with injury and outrage.”

“Ah! thou hast reminded me,” said Nestor.  “I heard of the shameful wrong which thou hast suffered.  But do not despair!  Who knows but that Odysseus will yet return, and make them drink the cup which they have filled?  It may well come to pass, if Athene continues to thy house the favour which she showed thy father, plain for all eyes to see, in the land of Troy.”

“Nay, ’tis too much to hope,” answered Telemachus with a sigh, “the thing is too hard—­even a god could hardly bring it to pass.”

“Now out on thy faint heart!” cried Mentor, who hitherto had sat silent.  “Better for him that his homecoming should be long delayed than that he should have died, like Agamemnon, fresh from his victory.  Heaven will guide him yet to his own door, though now he be at the uttermost parts of the earth.”

Telemachus shook his head as he answered:  “No more of that, I pray thee; it can never be.”  Then, addressing Nestor, he said:  “I would fain ask thee more concerning the manner of Agamemnon’s death.  Where was Menelaus when that foul deed was done?  And how did AEgisthus contrive to slay a man mightier far than himself?”

“Thou askest well,” replied Nestor.  “Menelaus was far away, or we should have another tale to tell.  And had the return of Menelaus not been delayed, vengeance would have been forestalled by many years.  Yea, the dogs would have eaten the flesh of that vile churl, and not a tear would have been shed for him.  But this is how it fell out:  while we were toiling and warring at Troy, AEgisthus sat close to the ear of Clytaemnestra, Agamemnon’s wife, and poured sweet poison into her mind.  For a long while she refused to hearken to his base proposals, for she was of a good understanding, and moreover there was ever at her side a minstrel, into whose care Agamemnon had given her when he went to Troy.  But AEgisthus seized upon the minstrel, and left him on a desert island to be devoured by carrion birds.  Then Clytaemnestra yielded to his suit, and he brought her to his own house.