_Ul._ Stealthily, my son, 2230 Soon shall we set them out of reach. [_Going up the stairs._ ACT · V _The same: ULYSSES and TELEMACHUS._ _ULYSSES._ Look not thus sad, my son; the day hath dawned Which ere it close shall see this house and me Restored; for though the event seem perilous, The goddess’ oath is sure. Look not thus sad. Arouse resolve, and brace intention up With thoughts to whet thy courage. _TELEMACHUS._ See, dear father, All things as thou hast ordered have I done, And whatsoever more thou bidst me do I shall be glad and ready: fear me not; 2240 Nor doubt my courage, if my heart is foolish In asking one thing of thee. _Ul._ Speak, my son. _Tel._ I am sad for thee, father, that thy return Must be in battle, when thou shouldst have come In peace and merriment: and for my mother I grieve, that when her sorrow’s cause is fled, Her joy must break so sternly: and for these halls I mourn, that they must know the din of arms, And bear the stain of life-blood. But not least For these rash men I am sorry, who I know 2250 In part deserve to die, and yet not all: Being for the most of common parts, no ruder Nor worse than others are: while to the worst Forgiveness of their wrongs would be, methinks, Nobler revenge, and as a punishment Heavier than death. _Ul._ What wouldst thou now, my son? _Tel._ Reveal thyself, and bid them at the word Depart in shame. If then they should not fly, There were no help for it: fight. _Ul._ The manliest hearts Are gentle; and thy speech, son, would convince My heart of malice, were my heart my guide: 2261 But as thou without question me obeyest, So I the goddess, in whose hands my life Till now hath lain. _Tel._ And will there be no mercy Shown to thy servants, who have failed in trust? _Ul._ Such justice only as shall separate The false from the innocent. If I should swerve Even in desire from what the goddess bade, She may desert me. Already hath my pity Strained my obedience: yestereve I gave 2270 Warning to fly to Lord Amphinomus; For which if I be blamed, what is our risk? At the hands of these wretches my death; or else Return denied me to my proper self, Condemned to live unrecognizable, A withered, age-stricken beggar, full of scorn. _Tel._ Already I love thee, even as now thou art. _Ul._ O son, this shame stifles me. Where’s Eumæus? I incline to tell him.