To hear his name on the lips of a seeming stranger is a surprise. His name has traveled, this he knows - it was for glory after all that he sailed to Troy in Peleus' fifty black ships, for glory that he cast aside a peaceful life and the possibility of old age. Yet to be recognized at once, with so few words spoken, strikes him as strange.

"It is indeed the son of Peleus whom you address, stranger, but what clue has given me away? And how came you to know my name, as far as we are from the shores of my native Phthia, or even the windy plains of Troy?"

As he looks over the stranger, whose features spark not the flame of his memories, he nevertheless feels a burgeoning sense of familiarity.