The suitors yonder are all intent upon lyre and song; and well they may be, while they consume scot-free these goods that are not their own, the goods of a man whose whitening bones are cast up, perhaps, upon some shore, mouldering in rain, or are wave-tossed in the salt sea itself. If once that man – if once he himself stood before their eyes again in Ithaca, they would rather pray for more speed of foot than for more gold and more
