Over and over Bruxieus had us recite the verses upon Odysseus’ return, when, clad in rags and unrecognizable as the rightly lord of Ithaka, the hero of Troy seeks shelter at the hut of Eumaeus, the swineherd. Though Eumaeus has no idea that the traveler at his gate is his true king, and thinks him only another cityless beggar, yet out of respect to Zeus, who protects the wayfarer, he invites the wanderer kindly in and shares with him his humble fare. This was humility, hospitality, graciousness toward the stranger; we must imbibe it, sink it deep within our bones.
