Then, recollecting how the Trojans hadderived their origin from Teucer's race,they sailed to Crete but there could not endureills sent by Jove, and, having left behindthe hundred cities, they desired to reachthe western harbors of the Ausonian land.Wintry seas then tossed the heroic band,and in a treacherous harbor of those isles,called Strophades, Aello frightened them.They passed Dulichium's port, and Ithaca,Samos, and all the homes of Neritos,—the kingdom of the shrewd deceitful man,Ulysses; and they reached Ambracia,contended for by those disputing gods;which is today renowned abroad, becauseof Actian Apollo, and the stoneseen there conspicuous as a transformed judge;they saw Dodona, vocal with its oaks;and also, the well known Chaonian bays,where sons of the Molossian king escapedwith wings attached, from unavailing flames.They set their sails then for the neighboring landof the Phaeacians, rich with luscious fruit:then for Epirus and to Buthrotos,and came then to a mimic town of Troy,ruled by the Phrygian seer. With prophecieswhich Helenus, the son of Priam, gave,they came to Sicily, whose three high capesjut outward in the sea. Of these three pointsPachynos faces towards the showery south;and Lilybaeum is exposed to softdelicious zephyrs; but Peloros looksout towards the Bears which never touch the sea.The Trojans came there. Favored by the tide,and active oars, by nightfall all the fleetarrived together on Zanclaean sands.Scylla upon the right infests the shore,Charybdis, restless on the left, destroys.Charybdis swallows and then vomits forthmisfortuned ships that she has taken down;Scylla's dark waist is girt with savage dogs.She has a maiden's face, and, if we may believewhat poets tell, she was in olden timea maiden. Many suitors courted her,but she repulsed them; and, because she wasso much beloved by all the Nereids,she sought these nymphs and used to tellhow she escaped from the love-stricken youths.But Galatea, while her loosened lockswere being combed, said to her visitor,—“Truly, O maiden, a gentle race of mencourts you, and so you can, and do, refuseall with impunity. But I, whose sireis Nereus, whom the azure Doris bore,though guarded by so many sister nymphs,escaped the Cyclops' love with tragic loss.”And, sobbing, she was choked with tears.When with her fingers, marble white and smooth,Scylla had wiped away the rising tearsof sorrow and had comforted the nymph,she said, “Tell me, dear goddess, and do notconceal from me (for I am true to you)the cause of your great sorrows.” And the nymph,daughter of Nereus, thus replied to her:—

“Acis, the son of Faunus and the nymphSymaethis, was a great delight to hisdear father and his mother, but even moreto me, for he alone had won my love.Eight birthdays having passed a second time,his tender cheeks were marked with softest down.“While I pursued him with a constant love,the Cyclops followed me as constantly.And, should you ask me, I could not declarewhether my hatred of him, or my loveof Acis was the stronger.—They were equal.“O gentle Venus! what power equals yours!That savage, dreaded by the forest trees,feared by the stranger who beholds his facecontemner of Olympus and the gods,now he can feel what love is. He is filledwith passion for me. He burns hot for me,forgetful of his cattle and his caves.“Now, Polyphemus, wretched Cyclops, youare careful of appearance, and you trythe art of pleasing. You have even combedyour stiffened hair with rakes: it pleases youto trim your shaggy beard with sickles, whileyou gaze at your fierce features in a poolso earnest to compose them. Love of flesh,ferocity and your keen thirst for bloodhave ceased. The ships may safely come and go!“While all this happened, Telemus arrivedat the Sicilian Aetna—Telemus,the son of Eurymus, who never couldmistake an omen, met the dreadful fierce,huge Cyclops, Polyphemus, and he said,‘That single eye now midmost in your browUlysses will take from you.’ In reply,the Cyclops only laughed at him and said,‘Most silly of the prophets! you are wrong,a maiden has already taken it!’So he made fun of Telemus, who warnedhim vainly of the truth—and after that,he either burdened with his bulk the shore,by stalking back and forth with lengthy strides,or came back weary to his shaded cave.“A wedge-formed hill projects far in the seaand either side there flow the salty waves.To this the giant savage climbed and satupon the highest point. The wooly flock,no longer guided by him, followed after.There, after he had laid his pine tree down,which served him for a staff, although so tallit seemed best fitted for a ship's high mast,he played his shepherd pipes—in them I sawa hundred reeds. The very mountains feltthe pipings of that shepherd, and the wavesbeneath him shook respondent to each note.All this time I was hidden by a rock,reclining on the bosom of my owndear Acis; and, although afar, I heardsuch words as these, which I can not forget:—‘O Galatea, fairer than the flowerof snow-white privet, and more blooming thanthe meadows, and more slender than the talldelightful alder, brighter than smooth glass,more wanton than the tender skipping kid,smoother than shells worn by continual floods,more pleasing than the winter sun, or thanthe summer shade, more beautiful than fruitof apple trees, more pleasing to the sightthan lofty plane tree, clearer than pure ice,and sweeter than the ripe grape, softer thansoft swan-down and the softest curdled milk;alas, and if you did not fly from me,I would declare you are more beautifulthan any watered garden of this world.‘And yet, O Galatea; I must say,that you are wilder than all untrained bullocks,harder than seasoned oak, more treacherousthan tumbled waters, tougher than the twigsof osier and the white vine, harder to movethan cliffs which front these waves, more violentthan any torrent, you are prouder thanthe flattered peacock, fiercer than hot fire,rougher than thistles, and more cruel thanthe pregnant she-bear, deafer than the wavesof stormy seas, more deadly savage thanthe trodden water-snake: and, (what I wouldendeavor surely to deprive you of)your speed is fleeter than the deerpursued by frightful barkings, and more swiftthan rapid storm-winds and the flitting air.‘But Galatea, if you knew me wellyou would regret your hasty flight from me,and you would even blame your own delay,and strive for my affection. I now holdthe choice part of this mountain for my cave,roofed over with the native rock. The sunis not felt in the heat of middle day,nor is the winter felt there: apples loadthe bending boughs and luscious grapeshang on the lengthened vines, resembling gold,and purple grapes as rich—I keep for youthose two delicious fruits. With your own hands,you shall yourself uncover strawberries,growing so soft beneath the woodland shade;you shall pluck corners in the autumn ripe,and plums, not only darkened with black juicebut larger kinds as yellow as new wax.If I may be your mate, you shall have chestnuts,fruits of the arbute shall be always near,and every tree shall yield at your desire.‘The ewes here all are mine, and many moreare wandering in the valleys; and the woodsconceal a multitude—and many moreare penned within my caves. If you perchanceshould ask me, I could never even guessor count the number; it is for the poorto count their cattle. Do not trust my word,but go yourself and see with your own eyes,how they can hardly stand up on their legsbecause of their distended udders' weight.‘I have lambs also, as a future flock,kept in warm folds, and kids of their same agein other folds. I always have suppliesof snow-white milk for drinking, and much moreis hardened with good rennet liquefied.‘The common joys of ordinary thingswill not be all you should expect of me—tame does and hares and she-goats or a pairof doves, or even a nest from a tall tree—for I have found upon a mountain top,the twin cubs of a shaggy wild she-bear,of such appearance you can hardly knowthe one from other. They will play with you.The very day I found them I declared,these I will keep for my dear loved one's joy.‘Do now but raise your shining head abovethe azure sea: come Galatea come,and do not scorn my presents. Certainly,I know myself, for only recentlyI saw my own reflection pictured clearin limpid water, and my features pleasedand charmed me when I saw it. See how hugeI am. Not even Jove in his high heavenis larger than my body: this I saybecause you tell me how imperial Jovesurpasses.—Who is he? I never knew.‘My long hair plentifully hangs to hideunpleasant features; as a grove of treesovershadowing my shoulders. Never thinkmy body is uncomely, although rough,thick set with wiry bristles. Every treewithout leaves is unseemly; every horse,unless a mane hangs on his tawny neck;feathers must cover birds; and their soft woolis ornamental on the best formed sheep:therefore a beard, and rough hair spread uponthe body is becoming to all men.I have but one eye centered perfectlywithin my forehead, so it seems most likea mighty buckler. Ha! does not the Sunsee everything from heaven? Yet it hasbut one eye.—‘Galatea, you must know,my father is chief ruler in your sea,and therefor I now offer him to youas your own father-in-law—But oh, do takesome pity on a suppliant,— and hear his prayer,for only unto you my heart is given.‘I, who despise the power of Jove, his heavensand piercing lightnings, am afraid of you—your wrath more fearful than the lightning's flash—but I should be more patient under slights,if you avoided all men: why rejectthe Cyclops for the love that Acis gives?And why prefer his smiles to my embraces,but let him please himself, and let him pleaseyou, Galatea, though against my will.‘If I am given an opportunityhe will be shown that I have every strengthproportioned to a body vast as mine:I will pull out his palpitating entrails,and scatter his torn limbs about the fieldsand over and throughout your salty waves;and then let him unite himself to you.—I burn so, and my slighted passion raveswith greater fury and I seem to holdand carry Aetna in my breast—transferredthere with its flames—Oh Galatea! canyou listen to my passion thus unmoved!’“I saw all this; and, after he in vainhad uttered such complaints, he stood up likea raging bull whose heifer has been lost,that cannot stand still, but must wander onthrough brush and forests, that he knows so well:when that fierce monster saw me and my Acis—we neither knew nor guessed our fate—he roared:‘I see you and you never will againparade your love before me!’ In such a voiceas matched his giant size. All Aetna shookand trembled at the noise; and I amazedwith horror, plunged into the adjoining sea.“My loved one, Acis turned his back and fledand cried out, ‘Help me Galatea, help!0, let your parents help me, and admitme safe within their realm; for I am nownear my destruction!’ But the Cyclops rushedat him and hurled a fragment, he had tornout from the mountain, and although the extremeedge only of the rock could reach him there.It buried him entirely.“Then I didthe only thing the Fates permitted me:I let my Acis take ancestral powerof river deities. The purple bloodflowed from beneath the rock, but soonthe sanguine richness faded and becameat first the color of a stream, disturbedand muddied by a shower. And presentlyit clarified.— The rock that had been thrownthen split in two, and through the cleft a reed,stately and vigorous, arose to life.And soon the hollow mouth in the great rock,resounded with the waters gushing forth.And wonderful to tell, a youth emerged,the water flowing clear about his waist,his new horns circled with entwining reeds,and the youth certainly was Acis, thoughhe was of larger stature and his faceand features all were azure. Acis changedinto a stream which ever since that timehas flowed there and retained its former name.

So Galatea, after she had toldher sorrow, ceased; and, when the companyhad gone from there, the Nereids swam againin the calm and quiet waves. But Scylla soonreturned (because she did not trust herselfin deep salt waters) and she wandered therenaked of garments on the thirsty sand;but, tired, by chance she found a lonely bay,and cooled her limbs with its enclosing waves.Then suddenly appeared a newly madeinhabitant of that deep sea, whose namewas Glaucus. Cleaving through the blue sea waves,he swam towards her. His shape had been transformedbut lately for this watery life, while hewas living at Anthedon in Euboea.—now he is lingering from desire for herhe saw there and speaks whatever wordshe thought might stop her as she fled from him.Yet still she fled from him, and swift through fear,climbed to a mountain top above the sea.Facing the waves, it rose in one huge peak,parting the waters with a forest crown.She stood on that high summit quite secure:and, doubtful whether he might be a godor monster, wondered at his flowing hairwhich covered his broad shoulders and his back,—and marvelled at the color of his skinand at his waist merged into a twisted fish.All this he noticed, and while leaning thereagainst a rock that stood near by, he said: —“I am no monster, maiden, I am nota savage beast; I am in truth a godof waters, with such power upon the seasas that of Proteus, Triton, or Palaemon—reared on land the son of Athamas.“Not long ago I was a mortal man,yet even then my thought turned to the seaand all my living came from waters deep,for I would drag the nets that swept up fish,or, seated on a rock, I flung the lineforth from the rod. The shore I loved was neara verdant meadow. One side were the waves,the other grass, which never had been touchedby horned, grazing cattle. Harmless sheepand shaggy goats had never cropped it—noindustrious bee came there to harvest flowers;no festive garlands had been gathered there,adornments of the head; no mower's handshad ever cut it. I was certainlythe first who ever sat upon that turf,—while I was drying there the dripping nets.And so that I might in due order countthe fish that I had caught, I laid out thosewhich by good chance were driven into my nets,or credulous, were caught on my barbed hooks.“It all seems like a fiction (but what goodcan I derive from fictions?) just as soonas any of my fish-prey touched the grass,they instantly began to move and skipas usual in sea water. While I pausedand wondered, all of them slid to the waves,and left me, their late captor, and the shore.“I was amazed and doubtful, a long time;while I considered what could be the cause.What god had done this? Or perhaps the juiceof some herb caused it? ‘But,’ I said, ‘what herbcan have such properties?’ and with my handI plucked the grass and chewed it with my teeth.My throat had hardly time to swallow thoseunheard of juices, when I suddenlyfelt all my entrails throbbing inwardly,and my entire mind also, felt possessedby passions foreign to my life before.“I could not stay in that place, and I saidwith shouting, ‘Farewell! dry land! never moreshall I revisit you;’ and with those wordsupon my lips, I plunged beneath the waves.The gods of that deep water gave to me,when they received me, kindred honors, whilethey prayed Oceanus and Tethys bothto take from me such mortal essence asmight yet remain. So I was purifiedby them and after a good charm had beennine times repeated over me, which washedaway all guilt, I was commanded thento put my breast beneath a hundred streams.“So far I can relate to you all thingsmost worthy to be told; for all so farI can remember; but from that time onI was unconscious of the many thingsthat followed. When my mind returned to me,I found myself entirely differentfrom what I was before; and my changed mindwas not the same as it had always been.Then, for the first time I beheld this beardso green in its deep color, and I sawmy flowing hair which now I sweep alongthe spacious seas, and my huge shoulders withtheir azure colored arms, and I observedmy leg extremities hung taperingexactly perfect as a finny fish.“But what avail is this new form to me.Although it pleased the Ocean deities?What benefit, although I am a god,if you are not persuaded by these things?”While he was telling wonders such as these—quite ready to say more—Scylla aroseand left the god. Provoked at his repulse—enraged, he hastened to the marvellous courtof Circe, well known daughter of the Sun.

Book 14

Now the Euboean dweller in great waves,Glaucus, had left behind the crest of Aetna,raised upward from a giant's head; and leftthe Cyclops' fields, that never had been tornby harrow or by plough and never wereindebted to the toil of oxen yoked;left Zancle, also, and the opposite wallsof Rhegium, and the sea, abundant causeof shipwreck, which confined with double shoresbounds the Ausonian and Sicilian lands.All these behind him, Glaucus, swimming onwith his huge hands through those Tyrrhenian seas,drew near the hills so rich in magic herbsand halls of Circe, daughter of the Sun,—halls filled with men in guise of animals.After due salutations had been given—received by her as kindly—Glaucus said,“You as a goddess, certainly should havecompassion upon me, a god; for youalone (if I am worthy of it) canrelieve my passion. What the power of herbscan be, Titania, none knows more than I,for by their power I was myself transformed.To make the cause of my strange madness known,I have found Scylla on Italian shores,directly opposite Messenian walls.“It shames me to recount my promises,entreaties, and caresses, and at lastrejection of my suit. If you have knowna power of incantation, I imploreyou now repeat that incantation here,with sacred lips—If herbs have greater power,use the tried power of herbs. But I would notrequest a cure—the healing of this wound.Much better than an end of pain, let hershare, and feel with me my impassioned flame.”But Circe was more quick than any otherto burn with passion's flame. It may have beenher nature or it may have been the workof Venus, angry at her tattling sire.“You might do better,” she replied, “to courtone who is willing, one who wants your love,and feels a like desire. You did deserveto win her love, yes, to be wooed yourself.In fact you might be. If you give some hope,you have my word, you shall indeed be wooed.That you may have no doubt, and so retainall confidence in your attraction's power—behold! I am a goddess, and I amthe daughter also, of the radiant Sun!And I who am so potent with my charms,and I who am so potent with my herbs,wish only to be yours. Despise her whodespises you, and her who is attachedto you repay with like attachment—soby one act offer each her just reward.”But Glaucus answered her attempt of love,“The trees will sooner grow in ocean waves,the sea-weed sooner grow on mountain tops,than I shall change my love for graceful! Scylla.”The goddess in her jealous rage could notand would not injure him, whom she still loved,but turned her wrath upon the one preferred.She bruised immediately the many herbsmost infamous for horrid juices, which,when bruised, she mingled with most artful careand incantations given by Hecate.Then, clothed in azure vestments, she passed throughher troop of fawning savage animals,and issued from the center of her hall.Pacing from there to Rhegium, oppositethe dangerous rocks of Zancle, she at onceentered the tossed waves boiling up with tides:on these as if she walked on the firm shore,she set her feet and, hastening on dry shod,she skimmed along the surface of the deep.Not far away there was an inlet curved,round as a bent bow, which was often usedby Scylla as a favorite retreat.There, she withdrew from heat of sea and skywhen in the zenith blazed the unclouded sunand cast the shortest shadows on the ground.Circe infected it before that hour,polluting it with monster-breeding drugs.She sprinkled juices over it, distilledfrom an obnoxious root, and thrice times nineshe muttered over it with magic lips,her most mysterious charm involved in wordsof strangest import and of dubious thought.Scylla came there and waded in waist deep,then saw her loins defiled with barking shapes.Believing they could be no part of her,she ran and tried to drive them back and fearedthe boisterous canine jaws. But what she fledshe carried with her. And, feeling for her thighs,her legs, and feet, she found Cerberian jawsinstead. She rises from a rage of dogs,and shaggy backs encircle her shortened loins.The lover Glaucus wept. He fled the embraceof Circe and her hostile power of herbsand magic spells. But Scylla did not leavethe place of her disaster; and, as soonas she had opportunity, for hateof Circe, she robbed Ulysses of his men.She would have wrecked the Trojan ships, if shehad not been changed beforehand to a rockwhich to this day reveals a craggy rim.And even the rock awakes the sailors' dread.

After the Trojan ships, pushed by their oars,had safely passed by Scylla and the fierceCharybdis, and with care had then approachednear the Ausonian shore, a roaring galebore them far southward to the Libyan coast.And then Sidonian Dido, who was doomednot calmly to endure the loss of herloved Phrygian husband, graciously receivedAeneas to her home and her regard:and on a pyre, erected with pretenseof holy rites, she fell upon the sword.Deceived herself, she there deceived them all.Aeneas, fleeing the new walls built onthat sandy shore, revisited the landof Eryx and Acestes, his true friend.There he performed a hallowed sacrificeand paid due honor to his father's tomb.And presently he loosened from that shorethe ships which Iris, Juno's minister,had almost burned; and sailing, passed far offthe kingdom of the son of Hippotas,in those hot regions smoking with the fumesof burning sulphur, and he left behindthe rocky haunt of Achelous' daughters,the Sirens. Then, when his good ship had lostthe pilot, he coasted near Inarime,near Prochyta, and near the barren hillwhich marks another island, Pithecusae,an island named from strange inhabitants.The father of the gods abhorred the fraudsand perjuries of the Cercopiansand for the crimes of that bad treacherous race,transformed its men to ugly animals,appearing unlike men, although like men.He had contracted and had bent their limbs,and flattened out their noses, bent back towardstheir foreheads; he had furrowed every facewith wrinkles of old age, and made them livein that spot, after he had covered alltheir bodies with long yellow ugly hair.Besides all that, he took away from themthe use of language and control of tongues,so long inclined to dreadful perjury;and left them always to complain of lifeand their ill conduct in harsh jabbering.

After Aeneas had passed by all thoseand seen to his right hand the distant wallsguarding the city of Parthenope,he passed on his left hand a mound,grave of the tuneful son of Aeolus.Landing on Cumae's marshy shore, he reacheda cavern, home of the long lived Sibylla,and prayed that she would give him at the lake,Avernus, access to his father's shade.She raised her countenance, from gazing onthe ground, and with an inspiration givento her by influence of the god, she said,“Much you would have, O man of famous deeds,whose courage is attested by the sword,whose filial piety is proved by flame.But, Trojan, have no fear. I grant your wish,and with my guidance you shall look uponthe latest kingdom of the world, shall seeElysian homes and your dear father's shade,for virtue there is everywhere a way.”She spoke, and pointed out to him a branchrefulgent with bright gold, found in the woodsof Juno of Avernus, and commanded himto pluck it from the stem. Aeneas didwhat she advised him. Then he saw the wealthof the dread Orcus, and he saw his ownancestors, and beheld the aged ghostof great Anchises. There he learned the lawsof that deep region, and what dangers mustbe undergone by him in future wars.Retracing with his weary steps the pathup to the light, he found relief from toilin converse with the sage Cumaean guide.While in thick dusk he trod the frightful way,“Whether you are a deity,” he said,“Or human and most favored by the gods,to me you always will appear divine.I will confess, too, my existence hereis due to your kind aid, for by your willI visited the dark abodes of death,and I escaped the death which I beheld.For this great service, when I shall emergeinto the sunlit air, I will erectfor you a temple and will burn for yousweet incense kindled at the altar flame.”The prophetess looked on him and with sighs,“I am no goddess,” she replied, “nor isit well to honor any mortal headwith tribute of the holy frankincense.And, that you may not err through ignorance,I tell you life eternal without endwas;offered to me, if I would but yieldvirginity to Phoebus for his love.And, while he hoped for this and in desireoffered to bribe me for my virtue, firstwith gifts, he said, ‘Maiden of Cumae choosewhatever you may wish, and you shall gainall that you wish.’ I pointed to a heapof dust collected there, and foolishlyreplied, ‘As many birthdays must be givento me as there are particles of sand.’“For I forgot to wish them days of changeless youth.He gave long life and offered youth besides,if I would grant his wish. This I refused,I live unwedded still. My happier timehas fled away, now comes with tottering stepinfirm old age, which I shall long endure.You find me ending seven long centuries,and there remain for me, before my yearsequal the number of those grains of sand,three hundred harvests, three hundred vintages!The time will come, when long increase of dayswill so contract me from my present sizeand so far waste away my limbs with agethat I shall dwindle to a trifling weight,so trifling, it will never be believed I once was loved and even pleased a god.Perhaps, even Phoebus will not recognize me,or will deny he ever bore me love.But, though I change till eye would never know me,my voice shall live, the fates will leave my voice.”

Sibylla with such words beguild their wayfrom Stygian realms up to the Euboean town.Trojan Aeneas, after he had madedue sacrifice in Cumae, touched the shorethat had not yet been given his nurse's name.There Macareus of Neritus had come,companion of long tried Ulysses, therehe rested, weary of his lengthened toils.He recognized one left in Aetna's cave,greek Achaemenides, and, all amazedto find him yet alive, he said to him,“What chance, or what god, Achaemenides,preserves you? Why is this barbarian shipconveying you a Greek? What land is sought?”No longer ragged in the clothes he woreand his own master, wearing clothes not tackedwith sharp thorns, Achaemenides replied,“Again may I see Polyphemus' jawsout-streaming with their slaughtered human blood;if my own home and Ithaca give moredelight to me than this barbarian bark,or if I venerate Aeneas lessthan my own father. If I should give my all,it never could express my gratitude,that I can speak and breath, and see the heavensilluminated by the gleaming sun—how can I be ungrateful and forget all this?Because of him these limbs of mine were sparedthe Cyclops' jaws; and, though I were even nowto leave the light of life, I should at worstbe buried in a tomb—not in his maw.“What were my feelings when (unless indeedmy terror had deprived me of all sense) left there,I saw you making for the open sea?I wished to shout aloud, but was afraidit would betray me to the enemy.The shoutings of Ulysses nearly causeddestruction of your ship and there I sawthe Cyclops, when he tore a crag awayand hurled the huge rock in the whirling waves;I saw him also throw tremendous stoneswith his gigantic arms. They flew afar,as if impelled by catapults of war,I was struck dumb with terror lestthe waves or stones might overwhelm the ship,forgetting that I still was on the shore!“But when your flight had saved you from that deathof cruelty, the Cyclops, roaring rage,paced all about Mount Aetna, groping throughits forests with his outstretched arms. Deprivedof sight, he stumbled there against the rocks,until he reached the sea; and stretching outhis gore stained arms into its waters there,he cursed all of the Grecian race, and said,‘Oh! that some accident would carry backUlysses to me, or but one of hiscompanions; against whom my ragemight vent itself, whose joints my hand might tearwhose blood might drench my throat, whose living limbsmight quiver in my teeth. How trifling then,how insignificant would be the loss,of my sight which he took from me!’“All thisand more he said. A ghastly horror tookpossession of me when I saw his faceand every feature streaming yet with blood,his ruthless hands, and the vile open spacewhere his one eye had been, and his coarse limbs,and his beard matted through with human blood.“It seemed as if Death were before my eyes,yet that was but the least part of my woe.I seemed upon the point of being caught,my flesh about to be the food of his.Before my mind was fixed the time I sawtwo bodies of my loved companionsdashed three or four times hard against the ground,when he above them, like a lion, crouched,devouring quickly in his hideous jaws,their entrails and their flesh and their crushed bones,white marrowed, and their mangled quivering limbs.A trembling fear seized on me as I stoodpallid and without power to move from there,while I recalled him chewing greedily,and belching out his bloody banquet fromhis huge mouth—vomiting crushed pieces mixedwith phlegmy wine—and I feared such a doomin readiness, awaited wretched me.“Most carefully concealed for many days,trembling at every sound and fearing death,although desiring death; I fed myselfon grass and acorns, mixed with leaves; aloneand destitute, despondent unto death,awaiting my destruction I lost hope.In that condition a long while, at lastI saw a ship not far off, and by signsprayed for deliverance, as I ran in haste,down to the shore. My prayers prevailed on them.A Trojan ship took in and saved a Greek!“And now, O dearest to me of all men,tell me of your adventures, of your chiefand comrades, when you sailed out on the sea.”

Then Macareus told him of Aeolus,the son of Hippotas, whose kingdom isthe Tuscan sea, whose prison holds the winds,and how Ulysses had received the windstied in a bull's hide bag, an awesome gift,how nine days with a favoring breeze they sailedand saw afar their longed for native land.How, as the tenth day dawned, the crew was movedby envy and a lust for gold, which theyimagined hidden in that leathern bagand so untied the thong which held the winds.These, rushing out, had driven the vessel backover the waves which they had safely passed,back to the harbor of King Aeolus.“From there,” he said, “we sailed until we reachedthe ancient city of Lamus, Laestrygon.—Antiphates was reigning in that land,and I was sent with two men of our troop,ambassadors to see him. Two of usescaped with difficulty, but the thirdstained the accursed Lestrygonian's jawswith his devoted blood. Antiphatespursued us, calling out his murderous horde.They came and, hurling stones and heavy beams,they overwhelmed and sank both ships and men.One ship escaped, on which Ulysses sailed.“Grieving, lamenting for companions lost,we finally arrived at that land whichyou may discern far off, and, trust my word,far off it should be seen—I saw it near!And oh most righteous Trojan, Venus' son,Aeneas, whom I call no more a foe,I warn you now: avoid the shores of Circe.“We moored our ship beside that country too;but, mindful of the dangers we had runwith Laestrygons and cruel Polyphemus,refused to go ashore. Ulysses chosesome men by lot and told them to seek outa roof which he had seen among the trees.The lot took me, then staunch Polytes next,Eurylochus, Elpenor fond of wine,and eighteen more and brought us to the wallsof Circe's dwelling.“As we drew near and stoodbefore the door, a thousand wolves rushed outfrom woods near by, and with the wolves there ranshe bears and lionesses, dread to see.And yet we had no cause to fear, for nonewould harm us with the smallest scratch.Why, they in friendship even wagged their tailsand fawned upon us, while we stood in doubt.“Then handmaids took us in and led us onthrough marble halls to the presence of their queen.She, in a beautiful recess, sat on her throne,clad richly in a shining purple robe,and over it she wore a golden veil.Nereids and nymphs, who never carded fleecewith motion of their fingers, nor drew outa ductile thread, were setting potent herbsin proper order and arranging themin baskets—a confusing wealth of flowerswere scattered among leaves of every hue:and she prescribed the tasks they all performed.“She knew the natural use of every leafand combinations of their virtues, whenmixed properly; and, giving them her closeattention, she examined every herbas it was weighed. When she observed us there,and had received our greetings and returned them,she smiled, as if we should be well received.At once she had her maidens bring a drinkof parched barley, of honey and strong wine,and curds of milk. And in the nectarous draughtshe added secretly her baleful drugs.“We took the cups presented to us byher sacred right hand; and, as soon as we,so thirsty, quaffed them with our parching mouths,that ruthless goddess with her outstretched wandtouched lightly the topmost hair upon our heads.(Although I am ashamed, I tell you this)stiff bristles quickly grew out over me,and I could speak no more. Instead of wordsI uttered hoarse murmurs and towards the groundbegan to bend and gaze with all my face.I felt my mouth take on a hardened skinwith a long crooked snout, and my neck swellwith muscles. With the very member whicha moment earlier had received the cupI now made tracks in sand of the palace court.Then with my friends, who suffered a like change(charms have such power!) I was prisoned in a stye.“We saw Eurylochus alone avoidour swinish form, for he refused the cup.If he had drained it, I should still remainone of a bristly herd. Nor would his newshave made Ulysses sure of our disasterand brought a swift avenger of our fate.“Peace bearing Hermes gave him a white flowerfrom a black root, called Moly by the gods.With this protection and the god's advicehe entered Circe's hall and, as she gavethe treacherous cup and with her magic wandessayed to touch his hair, he drove her backand terrified her with his quick drawn sword.She gave her promise, and, right hands exchanged,he was received unharmed into her couch,where he required the bodies of his friendsawarded him, as his prized marriage gift.“We then were sprinkled with more favored juiceof harmless plants, and smitten on the headwith the magic wand reversed. And new charms wererepeated, all conversely to the charmswhich had degraded us. Then, as she sings,more and yet more we raise ourselves erect,the bristles fall off and the fissures leaveour cloven feet, our shoulders overcometheir lost shape and our arms become attached,as they had been before. With tears of joywe all embrace him, also weeping tears;and we cling fondly to our chieftain's neck;—not one of us could say a single wordtill thus we had attested gratitude.”“The full space of a year detained us there,and I, remaining that long stretch of time,saw many things and heard as much besides:and this among the many other things,was told me secretly by one of the fourhandmaidens of those rites. While Circe passedher time from all apart except my chief,she brought me to a white marble shape, a youthwho bore a woodpecker upon his head.It stood erected in a hallowed place,adorned with many wreaths. When I had askedthe statue's name and why he stood reveredin that most sacred temple, and what causedthat bird he carried on his head; she said:—‘Listen, Macareus, and learn from this tale toothe power of Circe, and weigh the knowledge well!’