He had never left his father’s island before. When he came to Pylos, he found Nestor just sitting down to a feast, with all his people around him. Telemachus was disposed to go home. He hadn’t his father’s gift for oratory, and he was embarrassed to walk up to Nestor and state his errand before the public gaze. But he reminded himself in what a good cause he came, and fortunately Nestor insisted that he should eat before he talked. After the meal the old man opened the conversation himself. He belonged to that rough early time that Eteoneus had lived in. He asked the boy if he was out on some errand of honest merchandise, or if he was operating as a pirate. Telemachus was a little frightened at the question, but he caught the idea, and let the old man think that pirating was one of his favourite sports, or would be when he had more practice.

“But I’ve come to ask if you have any news at all of my father. We have heard nothing at home, for many years, and we’ve reached the point where even bad news would be better than this ominous silence. We understand that Menelaus is safely home again, and that Agamemnon got home, but not safely. Ajax is dead, we understand, and we have other items about my father’s friends, but not a single word of him, though he was a famous man, with a gift for exciting comment. If he had been killed, I should think someone would have told us. Where in the world is he? Will you tell me how and when you saw him last, and anything you know about him since? If the facts are bad, don’t soften them; I’d like the truth.”

Nestor went off into reminiscences. Odysseus was his best friend. He never would tire of remembering their exploits together on the plains of Troy. Telemachus was afraid he wouldn’t.