“Father,” he answered, “I know well your fame, mighty and wise in war.  But this we could never dare, two men against a host.  They are a hundred and twenty in all, the best fighting men from Ithaca and the islands round.  Think, if you can, of some champion who would befriend us and give us help.”

And Ulysses made answer, “What think you, if Father Zeus and the goddess Athene stood by our side?  Should we still need other help?”

“Truly they are the best of champions,” said Telemachus, “though they sit on high among the clouds; and they rule both men and Gods.”  “And they will be with us,” said his father, “when we come to the trial of war.  Now at daybreak you must go home and mix with the suitors, and later on the swineherd will bring me to the town, disguised again as the old beggar-man; and if they ill-treat me or even strike me or drag me out of the house, you must look on and bear it.  You may check them by speaking, but they will not listen, for the day of their doom is at hand.  And tell no one that Ulysses has come home, not even Laertes nor the swineherd nor Penelope herself; we must keep the secret until we are sure of our friends.”

Then Telemachus said that his father might trust him, and so they talked on together.  Meanwhile Eumaeus had reached the palace with the tidings that Telemachus had returned; and the suitors who were in the hall heard it and were dismayed, for they saw that their plot had failed.  They went out of the palace and sat down before the gates, and were talking of sending word to their ship that was lying in wait for Telemachus, when the ship itself came into the harbor, with the other princes on board.  So they all went up together to the public square and debated what to do, and they resolved to murder Telemachus as soon as they found another chance.  Then they went back and sat down again on the polished seats in the hall.

Now Medon the herald had heard them plotting together in the square, and went and told Penelope all they had said, and how they had purposed putting her son to death.  She went down at once to the hall with her women, and stood in the doorway with her bright veil before her face and spoke to Antinous and said, “Wicked and insolent man, can it be that they call you in Ithaca one of their wisest men?  No, it is a fool’s work you are doing, plotting to kill my son.  He is helpless before you now, but Zeus is the friend of the helpless and avenges their wrongs.  Impious and ungrateful too!  Did not Ulysses once shield your father from his enemies and save his life?  Yet you waste his substance and would murder his son?”

Then Eurymachus spoke and tried to soothe her.  No one, he said, should injure Telemachus while he was alive, for he loved him more than any man on earth.  Eurymachus’s words were fair, and Penelope could say no more; yet all the while he was planning the death of her son.

In the evening the swineherd reached his hut again, and found Ulysses changed to the old beggar-man once more, preparing supper with Telemachus.