_Eum._ To me is he a stranger as to thee. ’Twas yesterday, he tells me, that his ship Thesprotian, as he says, driven from her course, Put in for water: when for some mistrust Or weariness of voyage he remained. He hath fed with me, but thou being now returned He looks to be a suppliant at the house. He is thy man. _Tel._ Eumæus, thou must know 550 I could not, whatsoe’er his claim, receive him Where I myself am threatened: and even my mother Holds no sure mind, wavering from day to day Who shall be master. No: there is no place For suppliants at the house: but as thy guest I still may treat him well: here he shall have Raiment and all he needs, and I will give him A sword, and bid him fare where’er he will. But not to the house I bid him come, for fear Violence befall him and I be accursed. 560 _Ul._ Sir, since thy kindness makes me bold to speak, Thou hast my thanks; nor can I hear thy wrongs, Nor see thy shame unmoved, for thou art noble. Hast thou provoked this, tell me, or are thy people Moved by some god to hate, or is’t thy brethren Play thee false? _Tel._ Nay, there is neither grudge nor hate Betwixt me and my folk, nor do my brethren Stand faithlessly aloof. ’Tis all to say That Zeus hath made our house of single heirs: Arceisios gat one only son Laertes, 570 And he one only son, Ulysses; I, Ulysses’ son, am too his only child: And he hath left his house the prey of foes. I cannot aid thee, stranger. _Ul._ O would that I Were young as thou, and in my present mood; That I were this Ulysses or his son: Far rather would I die slain in my halls By my thick foes, than see this reckless wrong; My good farms plundered, and my herds devoured, My red wine wasted, and my handmaidens 580 Hither and thither haled about, at will Of such a rabble as fear not God nor man, Spoilers and robbers, who have set their hearts Vainly upon a purpose, which I say Shall never be accomplished. _Athena appears at the door to Ulysses._ _Tel._ I pray the gods It never be, and thank thee well, my friend, For thy good will. _Eum._ How art thou moved, old man. _Ul._ The heart unmoved by others’ wrongs is dead: And yet maybe I am somewhat overwrought; If I may go within ... _Eum._ Ay, go within, 590 And rest thee; thou hast need. _Ul._ I thank thee, friend. I’ll lay me down to sleep: here I but shackle Your private talk. _Eum._ Be at thy ease, I pray. _Tel._ Go, father; rest thee well.