Ulysses made no answer, but bowed his head and brooded.  Then a third man, Philoetius, joined them, who was bringing in a barren heifer and some goats.  These were brought over by the boatmen who are there to take people over when any one comes to them.  So Philoetius made his heifer and his goats secure under the gatehouse, and then went up to the swineherd.  “Who, Swineherd,” said he, “is this stranger that is lately come here?  Is he one of your men?  What is his family?  Where does he come from?  Poor fellow, he looks as if he had been some great man, but the gods give sorrow to whom they will—­even to kings if it so pleases them.”

As he spoke he went up to Ulysses and saluted him with his right hand; “Good day to you, father stranger,” said he, “you seem to be very poorly off now, but I hope you will have better times by and by.  Father Jove, of all gods you are the most malicious.  We are your own children, yet you show us no mercy in all our misery and afflictions.  A sweat came over me when I saw this man, and my eyes filled with tears, for he reminds me of Ulysses, who I fear is going about in just such rags as this man’s are, if indeed he is still among the living.  If he is already dead and in the house of Hades, then, alas! for my good master, who made me his stockman when I was quite young among the Cephallenians, and now his cattle are countless; no one could have done better with them than I have, for they have bred like ears of corn; nevertheless I have to keep bringing them in for others to eat, who take no heed to his son though he is in the house, and fear not the wrath of heaven, but are already eager to divide Ulysses’ property among them because he has been away so long.  I have often thought—­only it would not be right while his son is living—­of going off with the cattle to some foreign country; bad as this would be, it is still harder to stay here and be ill-treated about other people’s herds.  My position is intolerable, and I should long since have run away and put myself under the protection of some other chief, only that I believe my poor master will yet return, and send all these suitors flying out of the house.”

“Stockman,” answered Ulysses, “you seem to be a very well-disposed person, and I can see that you are a man of sense.  Therefore I will tell you, and will confirm my words with an oath.  By Jove, the chief of all gods, and by that hearth of Ulysses to which I am now come, Ulysses shall return before you leave this place, and if you are so minded you shall see him killing the suitors who are now masters here.”

“If Jove were to bring this to pass,” replied the stockman, “you should see how I would do my very utmost to help him.”

And in like manner Eumaeus prayed that Ulysses might return home.

Thus did they converse.  Meanwhile the suitors were hatching a plot to murder Telemachus:  but a bird flew near them on their left hand—­an eagle with a dove in its talons.  On this Amphinomus said, “My friends, this plot of ours to murder Telemachus will not succeed; let us go to dinner instead.”