Soon after the departure of Eumæus, Odysseus and Telemachus were
sitting before the door of the hut, each lost in his own thoughts,
when their attention was attracted by the strange behaviour of the
dogs. These animals, which had been lying basking in the sun, all at
once started up with a stifled cry, and ran whining, with every sign
of terror, to a distant corner of the courtyard. "What ails the
hounds?" said Telemachus, looking up in surprise. But Odysseus was not
long before he saw the cause of their alarm: standing at the outer
gate was a tall female figure, of majestic countenance, and more than
mortal beauty. Telemachus saw her not, but Odysseus instantly knew who
she was, and, obeying a gesture of her hand, he rose from his seat and
went out through the gate. She led him to a place where they were out
of hearing, and then said: "It is time for thee to reveal thyself to
thy son, that together ye may contrive destruction for the wooers.
When the hour of reckoning comes, I shall be near to aid you."
Thereupon she touched him with her wand, and in a moment he was once
more the old Odysseus, still in the full vigour of his manhood, dark
and sunburnt, with thick black hair and curling beard. His rags also
had been replaced by fair clean raiment; and thus completely
transformed he went back to the hut to reveal himself to Telemachus.
Athene, having done her part, had forthwith disappeared.
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 Phæacians 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."
"Thou sayest well," answered Odysseus; "and ere long the wooers shall
feel their might. Now learn further what thou must do. To-morrow thou
shalt go up to the house, and join the company of the wooers, and
afterwards the swineherd will bring me thither in the disguise of a
beggar old and miserable. If the wooers use me despitefully seek not
to prevent it, but let thy heart endure, even though they beat me, or
drag me by the feet through the doors. Thou mayest reprove them
gently, and bid them cease from their wantonness, but they will not
heed thee for their lives are forfeit already. Mark further, and take
heed what I say. When the time to strike is come I will give thee a
signal, and, forthwith, thou shalt remove all the weapons from the
halls, and make excuse to the wooers, saying that thou art bestowing
them in a safe place, out of reach of the smoke. Leave only two swords
and two shields and two spears, as weapons for ourselves. But above
all I charge thee to let none know of my coming--neither Laertes, nor
Eumæus, nor Penelope herself. Alone we must work, and watch the temper
of the thralls, to see if there be any on our side."