Then Ulysses pretended he was a Cretan and had fought at Troy, and told Eumaeus a long tale of adventures and how he had been wrecked at last on the coast of Epirus.  The king of the country, he said, had rescued him, and he had learned that Ulysses had been there a little while before, and was already on his way to Ithaca.

The swineherd listened eagerly to it all, but when Ulysses had finished he said, “Poor friend, my heart aches to hear of all your sufferings.  But there is one thing you should not have said, one thing I can never believe, and that is that Ulysses will return.  And why need you lie to please me?  I can see for myself that you are old and unhappy, a wanderer whom the Gods have sent to me.  It is not for such a tale I will show you the kindness that you need, but because I pity you myself and reverence the law of Zeus.”

“If I lie,” Ulysses answered, “you may have me thrown from the cliff as a warning to other cheats.  I swear it, and call the Gods to witness.”

But the true-hearted swineherd only said, “I should get a good name by that, my friend, if I took you into nay house and had you for my guest, and then murdered you brutally!  Do you think I could pray to Zeus after that without a fear?  But now it is supper-time, and my men will be coming home.”  While they spoke, the herdsmen came up with the swine, and the sows were driven into the pens, grunting and squealing noisily as they settled in for the night.  Then Eumaeus called out, “Bring in the fattest boar, and let us make a sacrifice in honor of our guest, and get some reward ourselves for all the trouble we have spent upon the drove,—­trouble lost, since strangers take the fruit of it all.”

So they brought in a big fat white-tusked boar, while Eumaeus split the wood for the fire.  And he did not forget the Immortals, for he had a pious heart:  he made the due offerings first and prayed for his master’s return, and then he stood up at the board to carve, and gave each man his share and a special slice for his guest from the whole length of the chine.  Ulysses took it and thanked him with all his heart:—­

“May Father Zeus be your friend, Eumaeus, and give you what I would give you for your kindness to a poor old man like me.”

But the swineherd said, “Take it, my good friend, take it and enjoy it.  Zeus will give or withhold as it may please him, for he can do all things.”

So they sat down to the feast, and after they had had their fill the swineherd’s servant cleared everything away, and then they made ready for sleep.  The evening closed in black and stormy, and a west wind sprang up bringing the rain with it, and blew hard all the night; so Eumaeus made up a bed of fleeces for Ulysses by the fire and gave him a great thick cloak as well, that he kept for the roughest weather.  But he could not bring himself to stay there too, away from his herd of pigs, and he wrapped himself up warmly and went out to sleep beside them in the open.  Ulysses saw, and smiled to see, what care he took of everything, while he thought his master was far away.