(His father’s counsellors, revered for age). 
Of his own fortunes, and Ulysses’ fame,
Much ask’d the seniors; till Peiraeus came. 
The stranger-guest pursued him close behind;
Whom when Telemachus beheld, he join’d. 
He (when Peiraeus ask’d for slaves to bring
The gifts and treasures of the Spartan king)
Thus thoughtful answer’d:  “Those we shall not move,
Dark and unconscious of the will of Jove;
We know not yet the full event of all: 
Stabb’d in his palace if your prince must fall,
Us, and our house, if treason must o’erthrow,
Better a friend possess them than a foe;
If death to these, and vengeance Heaven decree,
Riches are welcome then, not else, to me. 
Till then retain the gifts.”—­The hero said,
And in his hand the willing stranger led. 
Then disarray’d, the shining bath they sought
(With unguents smooth) of polish’d marble wrought: 
Obedient handmaids with assistant toil
Supply the limpid wave, and fragrant oil: 
Then o’er their limbs refulgent robes they threw,
And fresh from bathing to their seats withdrew. 
The golden ewer a nymph attendant brings,
Replenish’d from the pure translucent springs;
With copious streams that golden ewer supplies
A silver layer of capacious size. 
They wash:  the table, in fair order spread,
Is piled with viands and the strength of bread. 
Full opposite, before the folding gate,
The pensive mother sits in humble state;
Lowly she sate, and with dejected view
The fleecy threads her ivory fingers drew. 
The prince and stranger shared the genial feast,
Till now the rage of thirst and hunger ceased.

When thus the queen:  “My son! my only friend! 
Say, to my mournful couch shall I ascend? 
(The couch deserted now a length of years;
The couch for ever water’d with my tears;)
Say, wilt thou not (ere yet the suitor crew
Return, and riot shakes our walls anew),
Say, wilt thou not the least account afford? 
The least glad tidings of my absent lord?”

To her the youth.  “We reach’d the Pylian plains,
Where Nestor, shepherd of his people, reigns. 
All arts of tenderness to him are known,
Kind to Ulysses’ race as to his own;
No father with a fonder grasp of joy
Strains to his bosom his long-absent boy. 
But all unknown, if yet Ulysses breathe,
Or glide a spectre in the realms beneath;
For farther search, his rapid steeds transport
My lengthen’d journey to the Spartan court. 
There Argive Helen I beheld, whose charms
(So Heaven decreed) engaged the great in arms. 
My cause of coming told, he thus rejoin’d;
And still his words live perfect in my mind: