materials for a great feast.  Some were carrying smoking joints of roast meat, others were filling huge bowls with wine and water, and others were washing the tables and setting them out to dry.  In the portico before the house sat a great company of young nobles, comely of aspect, and daintily attired, taking their ease on couches of raw ox-hide, and playing at draughts to while away the time until the banquet should be ready.  Loud was their talk, and boisterous their laughter, as of men who have no respect for themselves or for others.  “Surely this was the house of Odysseus,” murmured the stranger to himself, “but now it seems like a den of thieves.  But who is that tall and goodly lad, who sits apart, with gloomy brow, and seems ill-pleased with the doings of that riotous crew?  Surely I should know that face, the very face of my old friend as I knew him long years ago.”

As he spoke, the youth who had attracted his notice glanced in his direction, and seeing a stranger standing unheeded at the entrance, he rose from his seat and came with hasty step and heightened colour towards him.  “Forgive me, friend,” he said, with hand outstretched in welcome, “that I marked thee not before.  My thoughts were far away.  But come into the house, and sit down to meat, and when thou hast eaten we will inquire the reason of thy coming.”

So saying, and taking the stranger’s spear, he led him into the great hall of the house, and sat down with him in a corner, remote from the noise of the revel.  And a handmaid bare water in a golden ewer, and poured it over their hands into a basin of silver; and when they had washed, a table was set before them, heaped with delicate fare.  Then host and guest took their meal together, and comforted their hearts with wine.

Before they had finished, the whole company came trooping in from the courtyard, and filled the room with uproar, calling aloud for food and drink.  Not a chair was left empty, and the servants hurried to and fro, supplying the wants of these unwelcome visitors.  Vast quantities of flesh were consumed, and many a stout jar of wine was drained to the dregs, to supply the wants of that greedy multitude.

When at last their hunger was appeased, and every goblet stood empty, Phemius, the minstrel, stood up in their midst, and after striking a few chords on his harp, began to sing a famous lay.  Then the youth who had been entertaining the stranger drew closer his chair, and thus addressed him, speaking low in his ear:  “Thou seest what fair company we keep, how wanton they are, and how gay.  Yet there was once a man who would have driven them, like beaten hounds, from this hall, even he whose substance they are devouring.  But his bones lie whitening at the bottom of the sea, and we who are left must tamely suffer this wrong.  But now thou hast eaten, and I may question thee without reproach.  Say, therefore, who art thou, and where is thy home?  Comest thou for the first time to Ithaca, or art thou an old friend of this house, bound to us by ties of ancient hospitality?”