by Homer
Thou may’st with all respect be, and procure
Thy fellows’ freedoms. But before, make sure
Her favours to thee; and the great oath take
With which the blessed gods assurance make
Of all they promise, that no prejudice
(By stripping thee of form and faculties)
She may so much as once attempt on thee.’
This said, he gave his antidote to me,
Which from the earth he pluck’d, and told me all
The virtue of it, with what deities call
The name it bears; and moly they impose
For name to it. The root is hard to loose
From hold of earth by mortals, but god’s pow’r
Can all things do. ’Tis black, but bears a flow’r
As white as milk. And thus flew Mercury
Up to immense Olympus, gliding by
The sylvan island. I made back my way
To Circe’s house, my mind of my assay
Much thought revolving. At her gates I stay’d
And call’d; she heard, and her bright doors display’d,
Invited, led; I follow’d in, but trac’d
With some distraction. In a throne she plac’d
My welcome person; of a curious frame
’Twas, and so bright I sat as in a flame,
A foot-stool added. In a golden bowl
She then suborn’d a potion, in her soul
Deform’d things thinking; for amidst the wine
She mix’d her man-transforming medicine;
Which when she saw I had devour’d, she then
No more observ’d me with her soothing vein,
But struck me with her rod, and to her sty
Bad ‘Out, away, and with thy fellows lie.’
I drew my sword, and charg’d her, as I meant
To take her life. When out she cried, and bent
Beneath my sword her knees, embracing mine,
And, full of tears, said: ‘Who, of what high line,
Art thou the issue? Whence? What shores sustain
Thy native city? I amaz’d remain
That, drinking these my venoms, th’ art not turn’d.
Never drunk any this cup but he mourn’d
In other likeness, if it once had pass’d
The ivory bounders of his tongue and taste.
All but thyself are brutishly declin’d.
Thy breast holds firm yet, and unchanged thy mind.
Thou canst be therefore none else but the man
Of many virtues, Ithacensian,
Deep-soul’d Ulysses, who, I oft was told
By that sly god that bears the rod of gold,
Was to arrive here in retreat from Troy.
Sheathe then thy sword, and let my bed enjoy
So much a man, that when the bed we prove,
We may believe in one another’s love.’
I then: ‘O Circe, why entreat’st thou me
To mix in any human league with thee,
When thou my friends hast beasts turn’d, and thy bed
Tender’st to me, that I might likewise lead
A beast’s life with thee, soften’d, naked stripp’d,
That in my blood thy banes may more be steep’d?
I never will ascend thy bed before
I may affirm, that in heav’n’s sight you swore
The great oath of the gods, that all attempt
To do me ill is from your thoughts exempt.’
I said, she swore, when, all the oath-rites said,
I then ascended her adorned bed,
But thus prepar’d: four handmaids serv’d her there
That daughters to her silver fountains were,
To her bright-sea-observing sacred floods,
And to her uncut consecrated woods.
One deck’d the throne-tops with rich cloths of state,
And did with silks the foot-pace consecrate.
Another silver tables set before
The pompous throne, and golden dishes’ store
Serv’d in with several feast. A third fill’d wine.
The fourth brought water, and made fuel shine
In ruddy fires beneath a womb of brass.
Which heat, I bath’d; and odorous water was
Disperpled lightly on my head and neck,
That might my late heart-hurting sorrows check
With the refreshing sweetness; and, for that,
Men sometimes may be something delicate.
Bath’d, and adorn’d, she led me to a throne
Of massy silver, and of fashion
Exceeding curious. A fair foot-stool set,
Water appos’d, and every sort of meat
Set on th’ elaborately-polish’d board,
She wish’d my taste employ’d, but not a word
Would my ears taste of taste; my mind had food
That must digest, eye meat would do me good.
Circe (observing that I put no hand
To any banquet, having countermand
From weightier cares the light cates could excuse)
Bowing her near me, these wing’d words did use:
‘Why sits Ulysses like one dumb, his mind
Lessening with languors? Nor to food inclin’d,
Nor wine? Whence comes it? Out of any fear
Of more illusion? You must needs forbear
That wrongful doubt, since you have heard me swear.’
‘O Circe!’ I replied, ‘what man is he,
Aw’d with the rights of true humanity,
That dares taste food or wine, before he sees
His friends redeem’d from their deformities?
If you be gentle, and indeed incline
To let me taste the comfort of your wine,
Dissolve the charms that their forc’d forms enchain,
And show me here my honour’d friends like men.’
This said, she left her throne, and took her rod,
Went to her sty, and let my men abroad,
Like swine of nine years old. They opposite stood,
Observ’d their brutish form, and look’d for food;
When, with another med’cine, every one
All over smear’d, their bristles all were gone,
Produc’d by malice of the other bane,
And every one, afresh, look’d up a man,
Both younger than they were, of stature more,
And all their forms much goodlier than before.
All knew me, cling’d about me, and a cry
Of pleasing mourning flew about so high
The horrid roof resounded; and the queen
Herself was mov’d to see our kind so keen,
Who bad me now bring ship and men ashore,
Our arms and goods in caves hid, and restore
Myself to her, with all my other men.
I granted, went, and op’d the weeping vein
In all my men; whose violent joy to see
My safe return was, passing kindly, free
Of friendly tears, and miserably wept.
You have not seen young heifers (highly kept,
Fill’d full of daisies at the field, and driv’n
Home to their hovels, all so spritely giv’n
That no room can contain them, but about
Bace by the dams, and let their spirits out
In ceaseless bleating) of more jocund plight
Than my kind friends, ev’n crying out with sight
Of my r
eturn so doubted; circled me
With all their welcomes, and as cheerfully
Dispos’d their rapt minds, as if there they saw
Their natural country, cliffy Ithaca,
And even the roofs where they were bred and born,
And vow’d as much, with tears: ‘O your return
As much delights us as in you had come
Our country to us, and our natural home.
But what unhappy fate hath reft our friends?’
I gave unlook’d for answer, that amends
Made for their mourning, bad them first of all
Our ship ashore draw, then in caverns stall
Our foody cattle, hide our mutual prize,
‘And then,’ said I, ‘attend me, that your eyes
In Circe’s sacred house may see each friend
Eating and drinking banquets out of end.’
They soon obey’d; all but Eurylochus,
Who needs would stay them all, and counsell’d thus:
‘O wretches! Whither will ye? Why are you
Fond of your mischiefs, and such gladness show
For Circe’s house, that will transform ye all
To swine, or wolves, or lions? Never shall
Our heads get out, if once within we be,
But stay compell’d by strong necessity.
So wrought the Cyclop, when t’ his cave our friends
This bold one led on, and brought all their ends
By his one indiscretion.’ I for this
Thought with my sword (that desperate head of his
Hewn from his neck) to gash upon the ground
His mangled body, though my blood was bound
In near alliance to him. But the rest
With humble suit contain’d me, and request,
That I would leave him with my ship alone,
And to the sacred palace lead them on.’
I led them; nor Eurylochus would stay
From their attendance on me, our late fray
Struck to his heart so. But mean time, my men,
In Circe’s house, were all, in several bain,
Studiously sweeten’d, smug’d with oil, and deck’d
With in and out weeds, and a feast secret
Serv’d in before them; at which close we found
They all were set, cheer’d, and carousing round.
When mutual sight had, and all thought on, then
Feast was forgotten, and the moan again
About the house flew, driv’n with wings of joy.
But then spake Circe: ‘Now, no more annoy.
I know myself what woes by sea and shore,
And men unjust, have plagu’d enough before
Your injur’d virtues. Here then feast as long,
And be as cheerful, till ye grow as strong
As when ye first forsook your country earth.
Ye now fare all like exiles; not a mirth
Flash’d in amongst ye but is quench’d again
With still-renew’d tears, though the beaten vein
Of your distresses should, methink, be now
Benumb with suff’rance.’ We did well allow
Her kind persuasions, and the whole year stay’d
In varied feast with her. When now array’d
The world was with the spring, and orby hours
Had gone the round again through herbs and flow’rs,
The months absolv’d in order, till the days
Had run their full race in Apollo’s rays,
My friends remember’d me of home, and said,
If ever fate would sign my pass, delay’d
It should be now no more. I heard them well,
Yet that day spent in feast, till darkness fell,
And sleep his virtues through our vapours shed,
When I ascended sacred Circe’s bed,
Implored my pass, and her performed vow
Which now my soul urg’d, and my soldiers now
Afflicted me with tears to get them gone.
All these I told her, and she answer’d these:
‘Much skill’d Ulysses Laertiades!
Remain no more against your wills with me,
But take your free way; only this must be
Perform’d before you steer your course for home:
You must the way to Pluto overcome,
And stern Persephone, to form your pass,
By th’ aged Theban soul Tiresias,
The dark-brow’d prophet, whose soul yet can see
Clearly and firmly; grave Persephone,
Ev’n dead, gave him a mind, that he alone
Might sing truth’s solid wisdom, and not one
Prove more than shade in his comparison.’
This broke my heart; I sunk into my bed,
Mourn’d, and would never more be comforted
With light, nor life. But having now express’d
My pains enough to her in my unrest,
That so I might prepare her ruth, and get
All I held fit for an affair so great,
I said: ‘O Circe, who shall steer my course
To Pluto’s kingdom? Never ship had force
To make that voyage.’ The divine-in-voice
Said: ‘Seek no guide; raise you your mast, and hoise
Your ship’s white sails, and then sit you at peace,
The fresh North Spirit shall waft ye through the seas.
But, having past the ocean, you shall see
A little shore, that to Persephone
Puts up a consecrated wood, where grows
Tall firs, and sallows that their fruits soon loose.
Cast anchor in the gulfs, and go alone
To Pluto’s dark house, where to Acheron
Cocytus runs, and Pyriphlegethon –
Cocytus born of Styx, and where a rock
Of both the met floods bears the roaring shock.
The dark heroë, great Tiresias,
Now coming near, to gain propitious pass,
Dig of a cubit every way a pit,
And pour, to all that are deceas’d, in it
A solemn sacrifice. For which, first take
Honey and wine, and their commixtion make,
Then sweet wine neat, and thirdly water pour,
And lastly add to these the whitest flour.
Then vow to all the weak necks of the dead
Offerings a-number; and, when thou shalt tread
The Ithacensian shore, to sacrifice
A heifer never-tam’d, and most of prize,
A pile of all thy most esteemed goods
Enflaming to the dear streams of their bloods;
And, in secret rites, to Tiresias vow
A ram coal-black at all parts, that doth flow
With fat and fleece, and all thy flocks doth lead.
When the all-calling nation of the dead
Thou thus hast pray’d to, offer on the place
A ram and ewe all black, being turn’d in face
To dreadful Erebus, thyself aside
The flood’s shore walking. And then, gratified
With flocks of souls of men and dames deceas’d
Shall all thy pious rites be. Straight address’d
See then the offering that thy fellows slew,
Flay’d, and impos’d in fire; and all thy crew
Pray to the state of either deity,
Grave Pluto, and severe Persephone.
Then draw thy sword, stand firm, nor suffer one
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br /> Of all the faint shades of the dead and gone
T’ approach the blood, till thou hast heard their king,
The wise Tiresias, who thy offering
Will instantly do honour, thy home ways,
And all the measure of them by the seas,
Amply unfolding.’ This the goddess told;
And then the Morning in her throne of gold
Survey’d the vast world; by whose orient light
The nymph adorn’d me with attires as bright,
Her own hands putting on both shirt and weed,
Robes fine and curious, and upon my head
An ornament that glitter’d like a flame,
Girt me in gold; and forth betimes I came
Amongst my soldiers, rous’d them all from sleep,
And bad them now no more observance keep
Of ease and feast, but straight a-shipboard fall,
For now the goddess had inform’d me all.
Their noble spirits agreed; nor yet so clear
Could I bring all off, but Elpenor there
His heedless life left. He was youngest man
Of all my company, and one that won
Least fame for arms, as little for his brain;
Who (too much steep’d in wine, and so made fain
To get refreshing by the cool of sleep,
Apart his fellows, plung’d in vapours deep,
And they as high in tumult of their way)
Suddenly wak’d and (quite out of the stay
A sober mind had given him) would descend
A huge long ladder, forward, and on end
Fell from the very roof, full pitching on
The dearest joint his head was placed upon,
Which quite dissolv’d, let loose his soul to hell.
I to the rest, and Circe’s means did tell
Of our return, as crossing clean the hope
I gave them first, and said: ‘You think the scope
Of our endeavours now is straight for home.
No, Circe otherwise design’d, whose doom
Enjoin’d us first to greet the dreadful house
Of austere Pluto and his glorious spouse,
To take the counsel of Tiresias,
The reverend Theban, to direct our pass.’
This brake their hearts, and grief made tear their hair.
But grief was never good at great affair;
It would have way yet. We went woeful on
To ship and shore, where was arriv’d as soon
Circe unseen, a black ewe and a ram
Binding for sacrifice, and, as she came,
Vanish’d again unwitness’d by our eyes;
Which griev’d not us, nor check’d our sacrifice,
