“Trust me,” she said. “I will not lose sight of you, and I think some who devour your substance will bespatter the pavement with their blood and brains. First I will disguise you so no human being shall know you — wrinkles, no yellow hair, a garment that fills all who see it with loathing, bleared eyes, staff and tattered wallet.
“Then go to the swineherd who keeps your pigs. He is loyal to you, and loves your son and careful Penelope. Stay with him and ask him everything, while I go to Sparta to call your dear son Telemachus, who has gone to Menelaus in rich Lacedaemon seeking news of you.”
“But why,” said Odysseus, “did you not tell him, since you knew? Did you want him too wandering in hardship while others eat up his estate?” Athena answered: “Never mind. I sent him that he might be well spoken of for having gone. He is staying comfortably with Menelaus.
“The suitors have put out to sea and lie in wait to kill him before he gets home. I do not much think they will succeed; rather, some who now eat your estate will first find a grave themselves.”
As she spoke she touched him with her wand: wrinkles, no yellow hair, withered flesh, bleared eyes, an old rag and a tunic tattered and smoke-begrimed, an undressed deer-skin, a staff and a wallet all in holes with a twisted thong. When they had laid their plans they parted, and the goddess went straight to Lacedaemon to fetch Telemachus.