When early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, Telemachus rose, put on his clothes, slung a sharp sword about him, bound on his sandals, and went out looking like a god. He sent the heralds to call the long-haired Achaeans to assembly. When they were met, he went in with a bronze spear — two swift hounds at his side. Athena shed a marvelous grace on him. All gazed in wonder. He sat in his father’s seat, and the old men made way.
Old Aegyptius spoke first — bent with age, knowing countless things. His son Antiphus had gone with Odysseus to Troy; the Cyclops had killed him in the cave. Two other sons kept the farm; Eurynomus was among the suitors. Still Aegyptius mourned Antiphus, and weeping he said:
“Men of Ithaca, hear me. We have had no assembly since the day Odysseus went in the hollow ships. Who has gathered us now — young or old? Has he heard of an army coming, or some other public matter? He seems a good man. May Zeus grant him what his heart wishes.”
Telemachus was glad at the omen. He stood in the middle; the herald Peisenor put the staff in his hand. “Old man,” he said, “the one who gathered you is not far — it is I, and pain has come on me most of all. I bring no word of an army, no public matter. An evil has fallen on my house two ways: I have lost my good father, who was once king among you and gentle as a father; and a far greater evil now will break my house and destroy my livelihood.”
“The sons of the greatest men here press my mother to marry against her will. They shrink from going to Icarius so he may give her with bride-gifts to whom he chooses. Day after day they throng our house, kill oxen and sheep and fat goats, drink the wine recklessly. No Odysseus stands here to drive this ruin out, and we ourselves cannot. Have shame before yourselves and the men round about. Fear the gods’ anger. I beg you by Zeus and Themis: leave off — unless my father wronged the Achaeans and you avenge it on me by urging these men on. Better you yourselves ate my goods — then there would be recompense. As it is you lay unbearable pains on my heart.”
He threw the staff down and burst into tears. Pity seized them all. No one dared answer with hard words but Antinous: