Meanwhile Ulysses was starting for the town, with the swineherd to show
him the way. He had slung the tattered wallet across his shoulder, and
Eumaeus had given him a staff, and every one who met them would have taken
the king for a poor old beggar-man, hobbling along with his crutch.

So they went down the rocky path till they reached a running spring by the
wayside where the townsfolk got their water. There was a grove of tall
poplars round it, and the cool stream bubbled down from the rock overhead,
and above the fountain there was an altar to the nymphs where the
passers-by laid their offerings.

There they chanced to meet Melanthius, the king's goatherd, driving his
fattest goats to the town for the suitors' feast. He was a favorite of
theirs, and did all he could to please them. Now as soon as he saw the two
he broke out into scoffs and gibes, till the heart of Ulysses grew hot
with anger.

"Look there!" he shouted, "one rascal leading another! Trust a man to find
his mate! A plague on you, swineherd, where are you taking that pitiful
wretch? Another beggar, I suppose, to hang about the doors and cringe for
the scraps and spoil our feasts? Now if you would only let me have him to
watch my farm and sweep out my stalls and fetch fodder for my kids, he
could drink as much whey as he liked and get some flesh on his bones. But
no! His tricks have spoilt him for any honest work!"

So he jeered at them in his folly, and as he passed he kicked Ulysses on
the thigh, but the king stood firm, and took the blow in silence, though
he could have found it in his heart to strike the man dead on the spot.
But Eumaeus turned round fiercely, and cried to the Gods for vengeance.

"Nymphs of the spring," he prayed, "if ever my master honored you, hear my
prayer, and send him home again! He would make a sweep of all your
insolence, you good-for-nothing wretch, loitering here in the city while
your flocks are left to ruin!"

"Oho!" cried Melanthius. "Listen to the foul-mouthed dog! I must put him
on board a ship and sell him in a foreign land, and make some use of him
that way! Why, Ulysses will never see the day of his return! He is dead
and gone; I wish his son would follow him!"

With that he turned on his heel and hastened away to the palace hall,
where he sat down with the suitors at their feast. And the other two
followed slowly until they reached the gate. There they paused, and
Ulysses caught the swineherd by the hand, a