He approached Laertes gently and, having greeted him, said: "My friend, thou art a skilful farmer. Every fig and vine and pear and olive has been carefully trained. But no one seems to care for thee. Thy master treats thee badly, for thou art ill-clad and unkempt. An old man deserves better things. Thy face does not look like the face of a servant. Indeed one might take thee for a king. Now tell me, who owns this orchard? And tell me also if this land is Ithaca. I desire to learn what became of Odysseus, the son of Laertes. He was once my guest and one that I made most welcome."
Laertes wept. "Thou art indeed in Ithaca, O stranger," he said. "But thou dost seek in vain for Odysseus. The land is full of wicked men, and there is no host to load thee with generous gifts, a recompense for thy hospitality. Oh, tell me of my son; when did he lodge with thee? Woe is me! The beasts and birds have long since devoured him. No mother folded his shroud about him, nor did his father or his loyal wife weep upon his bier. Tell me, what is thy name? Where is thy ship? How didst thou come here?"
Odysseus was overcome with pity, and invented a tale to prepare Laertes for his unexpected coming. Then he clasped the dear old man in his arms and kissed his trembling hands, and said: "I am thy son, my father; I am the Odysseus of whom thou dost inquire. Here is the scar given me by the wild boar as I hunted on Parnassos. And for further proof I will tell thee of the orchard-trees thou gavest me when I was a child. There were thirteen pear-trees, forty fig-trees, and ten apple-trees. Forbear thy weeping and cease to mourn. I have slain the suitor-robbers who were destroying my riches, and I have taken possession of my house again."
Overwhelmed with joy, the old king trembled from head to foot. The sturdy chieftain, Odysseus, saw it and drew him to his heart to keep him from fainting, and held him there until his strength came back. Then they went up to the house, where a supper had been prepared, and Telemachos was waiting. Laertes went to the bath and came back clad like a king. The grief had left his face, and he took on his old majestic appearance. As they sat at the banquet, relating the experiences of the past years, Dolius and his sons, the servants who had gone in search of thorns, returned. Dolius recognized Odysseus and seized him by the hand and saluted him with joyful greetings, and his sons gathered round the chieftain eager to take his hand.
Meantime the souls of the suitors had gone down to the abode of Pluto. Hermes led them, and they followed, crying and wailing like bats in a dark cave. The shades of Achilles, Agamemnon, Ajax, and other heroes saw them and constrained them to relate the mishaps that had brought them there. Then Agamemnon's ghost responded: "Fortunate Odysseus! His fame shall last forever, and poets shall sing the praises of Penelope in all the coming ages."
Ere Odysseus and Laertes had finished their feast, the news of the dreadful death of the suitors spread over the city. The wooers had many friends, and they came to the palace weeping and mourning, ready to avenge their slaughter. Finding that Odysseus was not at home, they proceeded to the market-place. The father of Antinoös arose and lifted up his voice crying for vengeance, but Medon, the herald, warned them that a god had taken part against them and that strife would be useless.
Halitherses, a wise and reverend citizen, took up the word: "Ye men of Ithaca," he said, "give ear to what I have to say. Odysseus was not the cause of your misfortunes, but you, yourselves. Ye would not check the insolence of the suitors, even when Mentor bade you do it. Contend not with Odysseus nor bring down his wrath upon us."
The Ithacans were now divided against themselves. Half of them took up arms to make war on Odysseus, and started for his father's house. In this adversity Athena did not forget her favorite chief, but armed herself, and, taking on the guise of Mentor, placed herself at Odysseus' side. A son of Dolius was first to announce that a crowd was marching against them, when they all arose quickly, donned their armor, and went outside.
Then Odysseus cried out to Telemachos: "Now is the moment to show thyself a hero, my son. Do not bring disgrace upon thy forefathers, for they are renowned over the whole world for their bravery." Telemachos responded: "There is no danger of that, my dear father, as I shall show thee presently." When Laertes heard this he rejoiced and said: "This is a happy day for me. How blest am I to see my son and grandson rivals in brave deeds."
Athena now drew near to the old king, and inspired him with youthful courage. He swung his spear aloft and threw it at the leader of the host and smote him to the earth. Odysseus and Telemachos rushed into the fray with double-edged swords. They would have made an end of the whole multitude, but Athena called aloud: "People of Ithaca, cease from fighting! Retire at once from this contest and shed no more blood."