a prodigiously long while; and it would really have made you ashamed to
see how they swilled down the liquor and gobbled up the food. They sat, on
golden thrones, to be sure; but they behaved like pigs in a sty, and, if
they had had their wits about them, they might have guessed that this was
the opinion of their beautiful hostess and her maidens. It brings a blush
into my face to reckon up, in my own mind, what mountains of meat and
pudding, and what gallons of wine, these two and twenty guzzlers and
gormandizers ate and drank. They forgot all about their homes, and their
wives, and children, and all about Ulysses, and everything else, except
this banquet, at which they wanted to keep feasting forever. But at length
they began to give over, from mere incapacity to hold any more.
"That last bit of fat is too much for me," said one.
"And I have not room for another morsel," said his next neighbor, heaving
a sigh. "What a pity! My appetite is as sharp as ever."
In short, they all left off eating, and leaned back on their thrones, with
such a stupid and helpless aspect as made them ridiculous to behold. When
their hostess saw this, she laughed aloud; so did her four damsels; so did
the two-and-twenty serving men that bore the dishes, and their
two-and-twenty fellows that poured out the wine. And the louder they all
laughed, the more stupid and helpless did the two-and-twenty gormandizers
look. Then the beautiful woman took her stand in the middle of the saloon,
and stretching out a slender rod (it had been all the while in her hand,
although they never noticed it till this moment), she turned it from one
guest to another, until each had felt it pointed at himself. Beautiful as
her face was, and though there was a smile on it, it looked just as wicked
and mischievous as the ugliest serpent that ever was seen; and fat-witted
as the voyagers had made themselves, they began to suspect that they had
fallen into the power of an evil-minded enchantress.
"Wretches," cried she, "you have abused a lady's hospitality; and in this
princely saloon your behavior has been suited to a hogpen. You are already
swine in everything but the human form, which you disgrace, and which I
myself should be ashamed to keep a moment longer, were you to share it
with me. But it will require only the slightest exercise of magic to make
the exterior conform to the hoggish disposition. Assume your proper
shapes, gormandizers, and begone to the sty!"
Uttering these last words, she waved her wand; and stamping her foot
imperiously, each of the guests was struck aghast at beholding, instead of
his comrades in human shape, one and twenty hogs sitting on the same
number of golden thrones. Each man (as he still supposed himself to be)
essayed to give a cry of surprise, but found that he could merely grunt,
and that, in a word, he was just such another beast as his companions. It
looked so intolerably absurd to see hogs on cushioned thrones, that they
made haste to wallow down upon all fours, like other swine. They tried to
groan and beg for mercy, but forthwith emitted the most awful grunting and
squealing that ever came out of swinish throats. They would have wrung
their hands in despair, but, attempting to do so, grew all the more
desperate for seeing themselves squatted on their hams, and pawing the air
with their fore trotters. Dear me! what pendulous ears they had! what
little red eyes, half buried in fat! and what long snouts, instead of
Grecian noses!
But brutes as they certainly were, they yet had enough of human nature in
them to be shocked at their own hideousness; and still intending to groan,
they uttered a viler grunt and squeal than before. So harsh and
ear-piercing it was, that you would have fancied a butcher was sticking
his knife into each of their throats, or, at the very least, that somebody
was pulling every hog by his funny little twist of a tail.
"Begone to your sty!" cried the enchantress, giving them some smart
strokes with her wand; and then she turned to the serving-men. "Drive out
these swine, and throw down some acorns for them to eat."
The door of the saloon being flung open, the drove of hogs ran in all
directions save the right one, in accordance with their hoggish
perversity, but were finally driven into the back yard of the palace. It
was a sight to bring tears into one's eyes (and I hope none of you will be
cruel enough to laugh at it) to see the poor creatures go snuffing along,
picking up here a cabbage leaf and there a turnip-top, and rooting their
noses in the earth for whatever they could find. In their sty, moreover,
they behaved more piggishly than the pigs that had been born so; for they
bit and snorted at one another, put their feet in the trough, and gobbled
up their victuals in a ridiculous hurry; and, when there was nothing more
to be had, they made a great pile of themselves among some unclean straw
and fell fast asleep. If they had any human reason left, it was just
enough to keep them wondering when they should be slaughtered, and what
quality of bacon they should make.
Meantime, as I told you before, Eurylochus had waited, and waited, and
waited, in the entrance-hall of the palace, without being able to
comprehend what had befallen his friends. At last, when the swinish uproar
resounded through the palace, and when he saw the image of a hog in the
marble basin, he thought it best to hasten back to the vessel, and inform
the wise Ulysses of these marvelous occurrences. So he ran as fast as he
could down the steps, and never stopped to draw breath till he reached the
shore.
"Why do you come alone?" asked King Ulysses, as soon as he saw him. "Where
are your two and twenty comrades?"
At these questions Eurylochus burst into tears.
"Alas!" cried he, "I greatly fear that we shall never see one of their
faces again."
Then he told Ulysses all that had happened, as far as he knew it, and
added that he suspected the beautiful woman to be a vile enchantress, and
the marble palace, magnificent as it looked, to be only a dismal cavern in
reality. As for his companions, he could not imagine what had become of
them, unless they had been given to the swine to be devoured alive. At
this intelligence all the voyagers were greatly affrighted. But Ulysses
lost no time in girding on his sword, and hanging his bow and quiver over
his shoulders, and taking a spear in his right hand. When his followers
saw their wise leader making these preparations, they inquired whither he
was going, and earnestly besought him not to leave them.
"You are our king," cried they; "and what is more, you are the wisest man
in the whole world, and nothing but your wisdom and courage can get us out
of this danger. If you desert us, and go to the enchanted palace, you will
suffer the same fate as our poor companions, and not a soul of us will
ever see our dear Ithaca again."
"As I am your king," answered Ulysses, "and wiser than any of you, it is
therefore the more my duty to see what has befallen our comrades, and
whether anything can yet be done to rescue them. Wait for me here until
to-morrow. If I do not then return, you must hoist sail, and endeavor to
find your way to our native land. For my part, I am answerable for the
fate of these poor mariners, who have stood by my side in battle, and been
so often drenched to the skin, along with me, by the same tempestuous
surges. I will either bring them back with me or perish."
Had his followers dared, they would have detained him by force. But King
Ulysses frowned sternly on them, and shook his spear, and bade them stop
him at their peril. Seeing him so determined, they let him go, and sat
down on the sand, as disconsolate a set of people as could be, waiting and
praying for his return.
It happened to Ulysses, just as before, that, when he had gone a few steps
from the edge of the cliff, the purple bird came fluttering towards him,
crying, "Peep, peep, pe--weep!" and using all the art it could to persuade
him to go no farther.
"What mean you, little bird?" cried Ulysses. "You are arrayed like a king
in purple and gold, and wear a golden crown upon your head. Is it because
I too am a king that you desire so earnestly to speak with me? If you can
talk in human language, say what you would have me do."
"Peep!" answered the purple bird, very dolorously. "Peep, peep,
pe--we--ep!"
Certainly there lay some heavy anguish at the little bird's heart; and it
was a sorrowful predicament that he could not, at least, have the
consolation of telling what it was. But Ulysses had no time to waste in
trying to get at the mystery. He therefore quickened his pace, and had
gone a good way along the pleasant wood-path, when there met him a young
man of very brisk and intelligent aspect, and clad in a rather singular
garb. He wore a short cloak, and a sort of cap that seemed to be furnished
with a pair of wings; and from the lightness of his step, you would have
supposed that there might likewise be wings on his feet. To enable him to
walk still better (for he was always on one journey or another), he
carried a winged staff, around which two serpents were wriggling and
twisting. In short, I have said enough to make you guess that it was
Quicksilver; and Ulysses (who knew him of old, and had learned a great
deal of his wisdom from him) recognized him in a moment.
"Whither are you going in such a hurry, wise Ulysses?" asked Quicksilver.
"Do you not know that this island is enchanted? The wicked enchantress
(whose name is Circe, the sister of King Æetes) dwells in the marble
palace which you see yonder among the trees. By her magic arts, she
changes every human being into the brute, beast, or fowl whom he happens
most to resemble."
"That little bird which met me at the edge of the cliff," exclaimed
Ulysses; "was he a human being once?"
"Yes," answered Quicksilver. "He was once a king, named Picus, and a
pretty good sort of a king too, only rather too proud of his purple robe,
and his crown, and the golden chain about his neck; so he was forced to
take the shape of a gaudy-feathered bird. The lions, and wolves, and
tigers who will come running to meet you, in front of the palace, were
formerly fierce and cruel men, resembling in their dispositions the wild
beasts whose forms they now rightfully wear."
"And my poor companions," said Ulysses. "Have they undergone a similar
change, through the arts of this wicked Circe?"
"You well know what gormandizers they were," replied Quicksilver; and,
rogue that he was, he could not help laughing at the joke. "So you will
not be surprised to hear that they have all taken the shapes of swine! If
Circe had never done anything worse, I really should not think her so very
much to blame."
"But can I do nothing to help them?" inquired Ulysses.
"It will require all your wisdom," said Quicksilver, "and a little of my
own into the bargain, to keep your royal and sagacious self from being
transformed into a fox. But do as I bid you, and the matter may end better
than it has begun."
While he was speaking, Quicksilver seemed to be in search of something; he
went stooping along the ground, and soon laid his hand on a little plant
with a snow-white flower, which he plucked and smelt of. Ulysses had been
looking at that very spot only just before; and it appeared to him that
the plant had burst into full flower the instant when Quicksilver touched
it with his fingers.
"Take this flower, King Ulysses," said he. "Guard it as you do your
eyesight; for I can assure you it is exceedingly rare and precious, and
you might seek the whole earth over without ever finding another like it.
Keep it in your hand, and smell of it frequently after you enter the
palace, and while you are talking with the enchantress. Especially when
she offers you food, or a draught of wine out of her goblet, be careful to
fill your nostrils with the flower's fragrance. Follow these directions,
and you may defy her magic arts to change you into a fox."
Quicksilver then gave him some further advice how to behave, and, bidding
him be bold and prudent, again assured him that, powerful as Circe was, he
would have a fair prospect of coming safely out of her enchanted palace.
After listening attentively, Ulysses thanked his good friend, and resumed
his way. But he had taken only a few steps, when, recollecting some other
questions which he wished to ask, he turned round again, and beheld nobody
on the spot where Quicksilver had stood; for that winged cap of his, and
those winged shoes with the help of the winged staff, had carried him
quickly out of sight.
When Ulysses reached the lawn in front of the palace, the lions and other
savage animals came bounding to meet him, and would have fawned upon him
and licked his feet. But the wise king struck at them with his long spear,
and sternly bade them begone out of his path; for he knew that they had
once been bloodthirsty men, and would now tear him limb from limb, instead
of fawning upon him, could they do the mischief that was in their hearts.
The wild beasts yelped and glared at him, and stood at a distance while he
ascended the palace steps.
On entering the hall, Ulysses saw the magic fountain in the centre of it.
The up-gushing water had now again taken the shape of a man in a long,
white, fleecy robe, who appeared to be making gestures of welcome. The
king likewise heard the noise of the shuttle in the loom, and the sweet
melody of the beautiful woman's song, and then the pleasant voices of
herself and the four maidens talking together, with peals of merry
laughter intermixed. But Ulysses did not waste much time in listening to
the laughter or the song. He leaned his spear against one of the pillars
of the hall, and then, after loosening his sword in the scabbard, stepped
boldly forward, and threw the folding-doors wide open. The moment she
beheld his stately figure standing in the doorway, the beautiful woman
rose from the loom, and ran to meet him with a glad smile throwing its
sunshine over her face, and both her hands extended.
"Welcome, brave stranger!" cried she. "We were expecting you."
And the nymph with the sea-green hair made a courtesy down to the ground,
and likewise bade him welcome; so did her sister with the bodice of oaken
bark, and she that sprinkled dew-drops from her fingers' ends, and the
fourth one with some oddity which I cannot remember. And Circe, as the
beautiful enchantress was called (who had deluded so many persons that she
did not doubt of being able to delude Ulysses, not imagining how wise he
was), again addressed him.
"Your companions," said she, "have already been received into my palace,
and have enjoyed the hospitable treatment to which the propriety of their
behavior so well entitles them. If such be your pleasure, you shall first
take some refreshment, and then join them in the elegant apartments which
they now occupy. See, I and my maidens have been weaving their figures
into this piece of tapestry."
She pointed to the web of beautifully woven cloth in the loom. Circe and
the four nymphs must have been very diligently at work since the arrival
of the mariners; for a great many yards of tapestry had now been wrought,
in addition to what I before described. In this new part, Ulysses saw his
two and twenty friends represented as sitting on cushioned and canopied
thrones, greedily devouring dainties and quaffing deep draughts of wine.
The work had not yet gone any further. Oh, no, indeed! The enchantress was
far too cunning to let Ulysses see the mischief which her magic arts had
since brought upon the gormandizers.
"As for yourself, valiant sir," said Circe, "judging by the dignity of
your aspect, I take you to be nothing less than a king. Deign to follow
me, and you shall be treated as befits your rank."
So Ulysses followed her into the oval saloon, where his two and twenty
comrades had devoured the banquet which ended so disastrously for
themselves. But all this while he had held the snow-white flower in his
hand, and had constantly smelt of it while Circe was speaking; and as he
crossed the threshold of the saloon, he took good care to inhale several
long and deep snuffs of its fragrance. Instead of two and twenty thrones,
which had before been ranged around the wall, there was now only a single
throne, in the centre of the apartment. But this was surely the most
magnificent seat that ever a king or an emperor reposed himself upon, all
made of chased gold, studded with precious stones, with a cushion that
looked like a soft heap of living roses, and overhung by a canopy of
sunlight which Circe knew how to weave into drapery. The enchantress took
Ulysses by the hand, and made him sit down upon this dazzling throne.
Then, clapping her hands, she summoned the chief butler.
"Bring hither," said she, "the goblet that is set apart for kings to drink
out of. And fill it with the same delicious wine which my royal brother,
King Æetes, praised so highly, when he visited me with my fair daughter
Medea. That good and amiable child! Were she now here, it would delight
her to see me offering this wine to my honored guest."
But Ulysses, while the butler was gone for the wine, held the snow-white
flower to his nose.
"Is it a wholesome wine?" he asked.
At this the four maidens tittered; whereupon the enchantress looked round
at them, with an aspect of severity.
"It is the wholesomest juice that ever was squeezed out of the grape,"
said she; "for, instead of disguising a man, as other liquor is apt to do,
it brings him to his true self, and shows him as he ought to be."
The chief butler liked nothing better than to see people turned into
swine, or making any kind of a beast of themselves; so he made haste to
bring the royal goblet, filled with a liquid as bright as gold, and which
kept sparkling upward, and throwing a sunny spray over the brim. But,
delightfully as the wine looked, it was mingled with the most potent
enchantments that Circe knew how to concoct. For every drop of the pure
grape-juice there were two drops of the pure mischief; and the danger of
the thing was, that the mischief made it taste all the better. The mere
smell of the bubbles, which effervesced at the brim, was enough to turn a
man's beard into pig's bristles, or make a lion's claws grow out of his
fingers, or a fox's brush behind him.
"Drink, my noble guest," said Circe, smiling as she presented him with the
goblet. "You will find in this draught a solace for all your troubles."
King Ulysses took the goblet with his right hand, while with his left he
held the snow-white flower to his nostrils, and drew in so long a breath
that his lungs were quite filled with its pure and simple fragrance. Then,
drinking off all the wine, he looked the enchantress calmly in the face.
"Wretch," cried Circe, giving him a smart stroke with her wand, "how dare
you keep your human shape a moment longer? Take the form of the brute whom
you most resemble. If a hog, go join your fellow swine in the sty; if a
lion, a wolf, a tiger, go howl with the wild beasts on the lawn; if a fox,
go exercise your craft in stealing poultry. Thou hast quaffed off my wine,
and canst be man no longer."
But, such was the virtue of the snow-white flower, instead of wallowing
down from his throne in swinish shape or taking any other brutal form,
Ulysses looked even more manly and kinglike than before. He gave the magic
goblet a toss, and sent it clashing over the marble floor, to the farthest
end of the saloon. Then, drawing his sword, he seized the enchantress by
her beautiful ringlets, and made a gesture as if he meant to strike off
her head at one blow.
"Wicked Circe," cried he, in a terrible voice, "this sword shall put an
end to thy enchantments. Thou shalt die, vile wretch, and do no more
mischief in the world, by tempting human beings into the vices which make
beasts of them."
The tone and countenance of Ulysses were so awful, and his sword gleamed
so brightly and seemed to have so intolerably keen an edge, that Circe was
almost killed by the mere fright, without waiting for a blow. The chief
butler scrambled out of the saloon, picking up the golden goblet as he
went; and the enchantress and the four maidens fell on their knees,
wringing their hands and screaming for mercy.
"Spare me!" cried Circe,--"spare me, royal and wise Ulysses. For now I
know that thou art he of whom Quicksilver forewarned me, the most prudent
of mortals, against whom no enchantments can prevail. Thou only couldst
have conquered Circe. Spare me, wisest of men. I will show thee true
hospitality, and even give myself to be thy slave, and this magnificent
palace to be henceforth thy home."
The four nymphs, meanwhile, were making a most piteous ado; and especially
the ocean nymph, with the sea-green hair, wept a great deal of salt water,
and the fountain nymph, besides scattering dewdrops from her fingers'
ends, nearly melted away into tears. But Ulysses would not be pacified
until Circe had taken a solemn oath to change back his companions, and as
many others as he should direct, from their present forms of beast or bird
into their former shapes of men.
"On these conditions," said he, "I consent to spare your life. Otherwise
you must die upon the spot."
With a drawn sword hanging over her, the enchantress would readily have
consented to do as much good as she had hitherto done mischief, however
little she might like such employment. She therefore led Ulysses out of
the back entrance of the palace, and showed him the swine in their sty.
There were about fifty of these unclean beasts in the whole herd; and
though the greater part were hogs by birth and education, there was
wonderfully little difference to be seen betwixt them and their new
brethren who had so recently worn the human shape. To speak critically,
indeed, the latter rather carried the thing to excess, and seemed to make
it a point to wallow in the miriest part of the sty, and otherwise to
outdo the original swine in their own natural vocation. When men once turn
to brutes, the trifle of man's wit that remains in them adds tenfold to
their brutality.
The comrades of Ulysses, however, had not quite lost the remembrance of
having formerly stood erect. When he approached the sty, two and twenty
enormous swine separated themselves from the herd, and scampered towards
him, with such a chorus of horrible squealing as made him clap both hands
to his ears. And yet they did not seem to know what they wanted, nor
whether they were merely hungry or miserable from some other cause. It was
curious, in the midst of their distress, to observe them thrusting their
noses into the mire, in quest of something to eat. The nymph with the
bodice of oaken bark (she was the hamadryad of an oak) threw a handful of
acorns among them; and the two and twenty hogs scrambled and fought for
the prize, as if they had tasted not so much as a noggin of sour milk for
a twelvemonth.
"These must certainly be my comrades," said Ulysses. "I recognize their
dispositions. They are hardly worth the trouble of changing them into the
human form again. Nevertheless, we will have it done, lest their bad
example should corrupt the other hogs. Let them take their original
shapes, therefore, Dame Circe, if your skill is equal to the task. It will
require greater magic, I trow, than it did to make swine of them."
So Circe waved her wand again, and repeated a few magic words, at the
sound of which the two and twenty hogs pricked up their pendulous ears. It
was a wonder to behold how their snouts grew shorter and shorter, and
their mouths (which they seemed to be sorry for, because they could not
gobble so expeditiously) smaller and smaller, and how one and another
began to stand upon his hind legs, and scratch his nose with his fore
trotters. At first the spectators hardly knew whether to call them hogs or
men, but by and by came to the conclusion that they rather resembled the
latter. Finally, there stood the twenty-two comrades of Ulysses, looking
pretty much the same as when they left the vessel.
You must not imagine, however, that the swinish quality had entirely gone
out of them. When once it fastens itself into a person's character, it is
very difficult getting rid of it. This was proved by the hamadryad, who,
being exceedingly fond of mischief, threw another handful of acorns before
the twenty-two newly restored people; whereupon down they wallowed, in a
moment, and gobbled them up in a very shameful way. Then, recollecting
themselves, they scrambled to their feet, and looked more than commonly
foolish.