“Eumaeus, and all of you, to-morrow I want to go away and begin begging about the town, so as to be no more trouble to you or to your men.  Give me your advice therefore, and let me have a good guide to go with me and show me the way.  I will go the round of the city begging as I needs must, to see if any one will give me a drink and a piece of bread.  I should like also to go to the house of Ulysses and bring news of her husband to Queen Penelope.  I could then go about among the suitors and see if out of all their abundance they will give me a dinner.  I should soon make them an excellent servant in all sorts of ways.  Listen and believe when I tell you that by the blessing of Mercury who gives grace and good name to the works of all men, there is no one living who would make a more handy servant than I should—­to put fresh wood on the fire, chop fuel, carve, cook, pour out wine, and do all those services that poor men have to do for their betters.”

The swineherd was very much disturbed when he heard this.  “Heaven help me,” he exclaimed, “what ever can have put such a notion as that into your head?  If you go near the suitors you will be undone to a certainty, for their pride and insolence reach the very heavens.  They would never think of taking a man like you for a servant.  Their servants are all young men, well dressed, wearing good cloaks and shirts, with well looking faces and their hair always tidy, the tables are kept quite clean and are loaded with bread, meat, and wine.  Stay where you are, then; you are not in anybody’s way; I do not mind your being here, no more do any of the others, and when Telemachus comes home he will give you a shirt and cloak and will send you wherever you want to go.”

Ulysses answered, “I hope you may be as dear to the gods as you are to me, for having saved me from going about and getting into trouble; there is nothing worse than being always on the tramp; still, when men have once got low down in the world they will go through a great deal on behalf of their miserable bellies.  Since, however, you press me to stay here and await the return of Telemachus, tell me about Ulysses’ mother, and his father whom he left on the threshold of old age when he set out for Troy.  Are they still living or are they already dead and in the house of Hades?”

“I will tell you all about them,” replied Eumaeus, “Laertes is still living and prays heaven to let him depart peacefully in his own house, for he is terribly distressed about the absence of his son, and also about the death of his wife, which grieved him greatly and aged him more than anything else did.  She came to an unhappy end {133} through sorrow for her son:  may no friend or neighbour who has dealt kindly by me come to such an end as she did.  As long as she was still living, though she was always grieving, I used to like seeing her and asking her how she did, for she brought me up along with her daughter Ctimene, the youngest of her