"My dear wife," replied Menelaos,
"I see the likeness just as you do. His hands and feet are just like
Odysseus’ so is his hair, with the shape of his head and the
expression of his eyes. Moreover, when I was talking about Odysseus,
and saying how much he had suffered on my account, tears fell from
his eyes, and he hid his face in his mantle."
Then Peisistratos said,
"Menelaos, son of Atreus, you are right in thinking that this young
man is Telemakhos, but he is very modest, and is ashamed to come here
and begin opening up discourse with one whose conversation is so
divinely interesting as your own. My father, Nestor, sent me to
escort him hither, for he wanted to know whether you could give him
any counsel or suggestion. A son has always trouble at home when his
father has gone away leaving him without supporters; and this is how
Telemakhos is now placed, for his father is absent, and there is no
one among his own dêmos to stand by him."
"Bless my heart," replied
Menelaos; "then I am receiving a visit from the son of a very dear
friend, who suffered much hardship [athlos] for my
sake. I had always hoped to entertain him with most marked
distinction when heaven had granted us a safe return
[nostos] from beyond the seas. I should have founded a
city for him in Argos, and built him a house. I should have made him
leave Ithaca with his goods, his son, and all his people, and should
have sacked for them some one of the neighboring cities that are
subject to me. We should thus have seen one another continually, and
nothing but death could have interrupted so close and happy an
intercourse. I suppose, however, that heaven grudged us such good
fortune, for it has prevented the poor man from ever getting home at
all."
Thus did he speak, and his words
set them all to weeping. Helen wept, Telemakhos wept, and so did
Menelaos, nor could Peisistratos keep his eyes from filling, when he
remembered his dear brother Antilokhos whom the son of bright Dawn
had killed. Thereon he said to Menelaos,
Homer. The Odyssey. Rendered into English prose for the use of those who cannot read the original. Samuel Butler. Based on public domain edition, revised by Timothy Power and Gregory Nagy. A. C. Fifield, London. 1900 (?).
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