_Ul._ With my own ships I fought at Ilion; And tho’ I look not now, in age and rags, A master among men, nay, nor a foe Many would fear, yet mayst thou see on me The sign of what I have been, and I think 450 Still from the gratten one may guess the grain. _Eum._ (_aside_). How age and misery will brag! And this To me, who really am a king. _Ul._ ’Twas then I knew Ulysses, and have since, like him And many a Greek, striven against destiny To gain my home:—at length our ship was cast On mountainous Thesprotia, where the king Pheidon was kind to me, and there I heard— Nor yet are many weeks passed since that day— Full tidings of Ulysses, and I saw 460 What wealth his arm had gotten: he himself Was travelled to Dodona, but by this Should be returned. _Eum._ Stranger, if all thy words, That grow in number, should outreach in tale The moments of his absence, they were vainly Poured in mine ears. _Ul._ Nay, then, and if indeed Ulysses came himself, here of his friends He would not be received. _Eum._ Ay, that may be: And time will change a man so from himself, That oft I wonder none have e’er contrived 470 To make pretence to be Ulysses’ self. That were a game for thee, old man, if age Did not so far belie thee. Nay, nay, nay! Signs there would be: and if these eyes should see him, And seeing know not, I would serve them so That they should see no more. _Ul._ Now when he comes ... _Eum._ Still harking back! I tell thee, friend, our thought Is rather for his son Telemachus, And his return; who when he promised well To be his father’s match, went wandering hence 480 To Lacedæmon, seeking for his sire: An idle quest and perilous, for I say ’Twould much increase the tender love of them That woo the mother, could they kill the son, And quarrel for the inheritance: and now They have sent a ship to take him in the straits, As he comes home: but may the gods protect him. Tho’, till I see him safe, my heart is vexed. _Ul._ Fear not; the gods will save him. _Eum._ Thank thee, sir. Hast ever been in Sparta? _Ul._ Ask me nought, 490 If thou wilt credit nought; or shall I say I have never lodged in Pitanè, nor drunk Out of Eurotas, nor on summer noons Gazed on the steep sun-checquered precipices Of huge Taygetus? _Eum._ Thy pardon, sir. Hast eaten well?