Such was his story. Athena smiled and caressed him with her hand. Then she took the form of a woman, fair and tall and wise: “He would have to be a shifty fellow who could beat you in craft, even with a god against him. Daredevil, full of guile — can you not drop your tricks even now that you are home?
“We will say no more — for we both know our craft, you best of mortals in counsel and stories, and I among the gods famed for wisdom and cunning. Yet you did not know me, Pallas Athena, who always stand by you. I made the Phaeacians love you. Now I have come to weave a plan for hiding the treasure they gave you, and to tell you the hardship you are still fated to bear. Be strong. Tell no one you have come back. Suffer in silence, and take the violence done to you.”
Odysseus answered: “A man may know a great deal, goddess, but you change your appearance so constantly that it is hard to know you. You were kind while we Achaeans fought before Troy. But from the day we sailed after sacking Priam’s city, I never saw you spare me any hardship, until at last among the Phaeacians you cheered me and led me into their city.
“Now I beg you in your father’s name — for I do not think I have really come to Ithaca; I fear you are mocking me — tell me whether I have truly reached my own dear country.”
“You are always taking something of that sort into your head,” Athena replied, “and that is why I cannot desert you: you are so plausible, shrewd, and shifty. Anyone else would have gone straight home to wife and children. You do not ask after them until you have tested your wife, who stays grieving, with no peace night or day for the tears she sheds.
“I never doubted you would get home, though with all your companions lost. But I did not want to quarrel with Poseidon, my father’s brother, who nursed a bitter grudge for your blinding his dear son. Now I will show you Ithaca so you may be sure. This is the harbor of Phorcys. Here is the olive with its long leaves, and the shadowy cave of the Naiads. And this is Mount Neriton, covered with forest.”
As she spoke she scattered the mist and the land appeared. Odysseus rejoiced, kissed the generous soil, and prayed: “Naiad nymphs, daughters of Zeus — I was sure I would never see you again. Now I greet you, and I will bring offerings as in the old days, if Zeus’s daughter will grant me life and bring my son to manhood.”
“Take heart,” Athena said. “Let us stow your things in the cave where they will be safe.” She went down to find the safest hiding places while Odysseus brought up the gold, bronze, and clothing. They stowed everything, and Athena set a stone against the door. Then they sat by the root of the great olive and planned the destruction of the wicked suitors.
“Odysseus, noble son of Laertes,” said Athena, “think how you can lay hands on these shameless people who have been lording it in your house these three years, courting your wife and making wedding presents, while she mourns your absence — giving hope to every one of them, but meaning the opposite of all she says.”
Odysseus answered: “In truth, goddess, I would have come to the same bad end as Agamemnon if you had not told me in time. Advise me how to avenge myself. Stand by me and put courage into my heart as on the day we loosed Troy’s fair diadem from her brow. Help me now as then, and I will fight three hundred men if you are with me.”