Fear came upon Telemachus, and he marvelled exceedingly, when the real Odysseus appeared before him.  “Who art thou,” he asked, “that comest back in a moment thus wondrously transfigured?  If thou be a god, as methinks thou art, let me find favour in thy sight, and we will honour thee with rich offerings of gold, and with humble prayers.”

“No god am I,” answered Odysseus, “but thine own dear father, for whose sake thou hast suffered so long with groanings and tears.”

With that he kissed him, and giving vent to the tenderness which he had hitherto restrained he lifted up his voice and wept.  But Telemachus could not yet believe that it was indeed his father whom he saw before him.  “It cannot be,” he said, drawing back in affright.  “It is mere magic and glamour practised against me by some hostile power, to mock my sorrow.  No being of flesh and blood could work such a change upon himself.  A moment since thou wast an old man in sordid raiment, and now thou art like unto the sons of heaven.”

“Forbear!” said Odysseus, “no more amazement!  I am thy father, and no other; if not, thou shalt never see him more.  Much have I suffered, and wandered far, and now in the twentieth year I am come back to my native land.  This change at which thou marvellest is no work of mine, but was wrought by Athene, daughter of Zeus.  The gods can deal with us as they will, both for our glory and for our shame.”

Then Telemachus was convinced, and fell into his father’s arms, and they wept long and sore over each other, for joy and grief are near neighbours.  Presently they grew calmer, and Odysseus, in answer to his son’s inquiry, told how the Phaeacians had conveyed him to Ithaca, and of all the treasures which he had brought with him.

“But now we must speak of a sterner task,” said Odysseus, when his story was ended.  “Tell me now the number of the wooers, that I may know how many and what manner of men they be, and thereafter contrive how we may best assail them, whether by ourselves or with others to help us.”

“Father,” answered Telemachus, “I knew thy high renown, as a warrior mighty in word and deed.  But I fear me greatly that this task is too hard for us; how shall two men prevail against so many?  Listen now and I will tell thee their number.  From Dulichium are two and fifty, with six men-servants, from Same twenty-four, from Zacynthus twenty, and from Ithaca itself twelve, all proper men and tall.  If we twain fall upon such a host, we may find the work of vengeance a bitter morsel, and our bane.  It were better, then, to look for some other help.”

“Helpers we shall find, and stout ones too,” said Odysseus.  “What sayest thou to Athene and her father, Zeus?  Is their aid enough or shall we look for more?”

“Mighty indeed are the champions thou namest,” replied Telemachus, “though throned far remote among the clouds; supreme are they in sovereignty, both on earth and in heaven.”