Pisistratus stowed the gifts in the chariot and wondered at them. Menelaus led them inside. They washed and sat, and a maid poured water for their hands. Bread and meat were set. They ate. When they had tasted food and drink, the two young men harnessed the team, mounted, and drove out through the gateway and sounding colonnade.
Menelaus came after them with a golden cup of honey-hearted wine for a parting drink-offering. He stood before the horses and said, “Farewell, young men. Give my greeting to Nestor, shepherd of the people, for he was kind to me when we sons of Achaea fought at Troy.” Telemachus promised to tell him — “if I find him living when I reach Pylos. I wish I were as sure of finding Odysseus home in Ithaca, to tell him of your kindness and the gifts I carry.”
As he spoke an eagle flew past on the right, gripping a great white goose stolen from the yard. Men and women shouted as it passed. Pisistratus said, “Menelaus, dear to Zeus, was that omen meant for us or for you?” Menelaus pondered, but Helen spoke first: “Hear me, and I will read what the gods put in my heart. As this eagle came from the mountain where his kind was born and snatched the goose from our house, so Odysseus, after many pains and wanderings, will come home and take vengeance — or he is already home, sowing ruin for the suitors.”
Telemachus said, “May Zeus grant it. If it comes true I will pray to you as to a goddess even in my own land.” He shook the reins. The horses ran through the city to the plain. All day they swayed the yoke. The sun set and the ways grew dark. They came to Pherae, to Diocles son of Ortilochus, and slept there as guests. When Dawn of the rose fingers appeared they yoked again and drove on, and reached Pylos, the well-built city of Neleus.
Then Telemachus said to Pisistratus, “Son of Nestor, will you promise what I ask? Our fathers were friends; we are of one age; this road has bound us closer. Do not take me past my ship, or the old man will keep me in his house against my will, eager as I am to go. Drive me straight to the black ship and leave me there.”
Pisistratus turned the horses toward the shore, set Menelaus’s gifts of gold and clothing in the stern, and spoke quickly: “Hurry aboard before I reach home and tell the old man. I know his spirit — he will come himself to urge you back, and he will not leave empty-handed. He will be angry.” He drove toward the city. Telemachus called his crew: “Put the gear in order, friends, and let us sail. Man the oars.”
They went aboard as he ordered. While Telemachus prayed and poured offerings to Athena in the stern, a stranger came running — Theoclymenus, a prophet of Melampus’s line, fleeing Argos after killing a man of his kin.
“Friend,” he said, “I find you sacrificing here. By your offerings and your journey I ask: who are you, and where is your city and your parents?” Telemachus answered truly: “I am from Ithaca. My father is Odysseus — if he ever lived. He has come to some wretched end. Therefore I have taken ship with these companions to seek news of him.”
Theoclymenus said, “I too am an exile. I killed a man of my own kin. He has many brothers in horse-pasturing Argos, powerful men, and I flee death at their hands. Take me on your ship. Do not let them kill me — I think they are hunting me.” Telemachus answered, “I will not refuse you. Come. In Ithaca we will give you such welcome as we have.” He took the stranger’s spear, laid it on the deck, and seated him in the stern. They cast off the stern cables, and Telemachus told them to lay hands to the tackle. Athena sent a fair following wind.
The sun sank and darkness covered the earth. The ship ran past Pheae and on to Elis, where the Epeans rule. From there Telemachus steered toward the pointed isles, wondering whether he would escape death or be taken.