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[2]; 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. 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."
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 center 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. Your
companions 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 farther.
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 center 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 last 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 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, delightful 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 king-like 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.
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 they 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.
"Thanks, noble Ulysses!" they cried. "From brute beasts you have
restored us to the condition of men again."
"Do not put yourselves to the trouble of thanking me," said the wise
king. "I fear I have done but little for you."
To say the truth, there was a suspicious kind of a grunt in their
voices, and for a long time afterwards they spoke gruffly, and were
apt to set up a squeal.
"It must depend upon your own future behavior," added Ulysses,
"whether you do not find your way back to the sty."
At this moment the note of a bird sounded from the branch of a
neighboring tree.
"Peep, peep, pe--weep--ep!"
It was the purple bird who, all this while, had been sitting over
their heads, watching what was going forward, and hoping that Ulysses
would remember how he had done his utmost to keep him and his
followers out of harm's way. Ulysses ordered Circe instantly to make a
king of this good little fowl, and leave him exactly as she found him.
Hardly were the words spoken, and before the bird had time to utter
another "Pe--weep," King Picus leaped down from the bough of the tree,
as majestic a sovereign as any in the world, dressed in a long purple
robe and gorgeous yellow stockings, with a splendidly wrought collar
about his neck and a golden crown upon his head. He and King Ulysses
exchanged with one another the courtesies which belong to their
elevated rank. But from that time forth, King Picus was no longer
proud of his crown and his trappings of royalty, nor of the fact of
his being a king; he felt himself merely the upper servant of his
people, and that it must be his lifelong labor to make them better and
happier.
As for the lions, tigers, and wolves (though Circe would have restored
them to their former shapes at his slightest word), Ulysses thought it
advisable that they should remain as they now were, and thus give
warning of their cruel dispositions, instead of going about under the
guise of men and pretending to human sympathies, while their hearts
had the blood-thirstiness of wild beasts. So he let them howl as much
as they liked, but never troubled his head about them. And when
everything was settled according to his pleasure, he sent to summon
the remainder of his comrades, whom he had left at the sea-shore.
These being arrived, with the prudent Eurylochus at their head, they
all made themselves comfortable in Circe's enchanted palace until
quite rested and refreshed from the toils and hardships of their
voyage.
FOOTNOTE:
[2] The Romans called him Mercury, and the Greeks Hermes.
ULYSSES AND THE CYCLOPS
BY HOPE MONCRIEFF
Many a year did the much-enduring Ulysses sail unknown seas, on his
way back from Troy to Ithaca, his island home. Beset by such mishaps
and enchantments that for long he seemed little like to see again his
faithful wife Penelope and his son Telemachus, he escaped from one
perilous adventure after another, but none more fearsome than when he
came to the smoking mountain-land of the Cyclopes. So were named a
cruel race of one-eyed giants, wild as the rocky heights on which they
fed their flocks of sheep and goats, knowing not to plant corn or
fruit, and holding no commerce with kindly men, nor reverencing the
lords of heaven.
The very danger of venturing into such a land was lure enough for this
hero, when from his ship he sighted a huge cave opening high above the
beach, its mouth half hidden by a tangle of dark wood. Here lived
alone one of these monsters, Polyphemus by name, a savage so churlish
of nature that he kept aloof even from his fierce fellows. Eager to
explore that gloomy lair, Ulysses picked out twelve of his boldest
men, with whom he landed, leaving the vessel moored by the shore to
await their return. On reaching the cave they found its master absent,
but that he would soon return they might guess from the flocks of
bleating lambs and kids penned up within, along with great piles of
cheeses, vats of curd, and rows of milking vessels, the giant's
household goods. The sailors, their hearts chilled by its damp
shades, were not for staying long in this vast and deep-sunk hollow.
"Let us begone," they urged their leader, "back to the ship with a
load of cheeses and a drove of lambs and kids to mend our fare on the
salt waves! It were better to help ourselves behind the back of such a
host, who may soon come to catch us in his den."
But Ulysses let curiosity get the better of prudence. He had a mind at
all risks to know what manner of creature this was that lived in so
strange an abode; and he kept his companions in the cave, with a
venturesomeness that cost them dear. They even made bold to light a
fire and to refresh themselves from the giant's store of milk and
cheese; and thus were they caught, taking their ease, when Polyphemus
came home at evening, driving before him his full-uddered flock.
Above their bleating and scurrying was heard the heavy tramp of that
monster, and the earth shook as from his shoulders he flung down a
crashing stack of firewood, gathered in the forests through which he
stalked like a moving mountain. The flock driven inside, he closed the
entrance of the cave by dragging across it a mighty boulder that would
have made a load for twenty wagons. Having thus shut out the fading
light, he knelt down to milk his ewes and goats, as yet unaware what
uninvited guests were straining their eyes at his black bulk from the
deepest and darkest recess into which they had shrunk before his
coming. But when he went on to light a fire, the flickering flames
showed them his hideous face with its one broad red eye, that glowed
in sudden anger when it fell upon the strangers; and through the smoky
vaults echoed the blood-curdling roar with which he greeted them.
"Who, and whence are ye?" he thundered forth. "Pirates, doubtless, who
peril your own lives to rob other men!"
"Nay," answered Ulysses, who of all the trembling band alone found
voice to speak. "We are men of famous race, the Greeks who at last
overcame Troy, and now, sailing home, have been driven by winds and
waves upon this coast. As helpless suppliants we fall before thee,
seeking the hospitality due to misfortune from all who fear the gods."
"Ho, ho!" bellowed Polyphemus, in gigantic laughter. "Stranger, thou
art strange indeed to this land, and a fool to boot, if thou think'st
a Cyclops owns any law but his own will. For gods we care not, nor yet
for men, whoever they boast themselves! But say, how and where came ye
on our shore?"
So he asked cunningly, hoping to make prize of their ship if anchored
near at hand; but Ulysses was no less wily than bold, and took heed
not to tell the truth.
"Our vessel, alas! was dashed to pieces on the cliff, and, of all the
crew, we only have saved nothing but our lives."
Now the men saw with what an inhuman monster they had to do. The
savage giant, wasting no more time in parley, caught up the first two
that came to his hands, dashed their brains out against the stony
floor, then greedily devoured their flesh before the eyes of the
survivors, shuddering to think how soon they might meet the same fate.
Ulysses alone, undaunted and indignant, laid hands on his sword, but
forebore to draw it. Even when, having ended his horrid meal and
washed it down with large draughts of milk, Polyphemus laid himself
carelessly to sleep among his flocks, the hero saw it was vain to
strike, for though he might slay their fearsome foe, he knew that the
strength of all together could not roll away that rocky barrier from
the cave mouth. There was nothing for it but to remain patient,
watching a chance to overcome the giant by craft rather than by force.
Through the night the poor sailors took such rest as they could, and
the glimmering dawn brought fresh terror. As soon as the giant had
risen and stretched his knotty limbs, he first set the lambs to the
ewes, then snatched up two more of the hapless men, taken at random,
to glut his taste for blood. When he turned out the flock to pasture,
he neglected not to roll back the great rock that sealed up the cave,
thus turned into a prison for these rash strangers, and soon like to
be their tomb.
But through the day their shrewd captain set his wits to work on a
plot for escape. By good chance they had brought on shore with them a
goat-skin full of strong wine, that now might serve to dull the
giant's senses. In the cave they found a tree trunk he had plucked up
by the root to make a club such as only so huge a monster could wield,
for it was longer than the mast of their ship. This Ulysses had
sharpened to a point and hardened in the fire before hiding it away
among the dust and dirt that littered the cave. He explained to his
comrades how he meant to use this enormous weapon, bidding them draw
lots who should bear a hand with himself in the attempt; and, to his
secret satisfaction, the lot fell on the very men he would have chosen
for a daring deed.
Polyphemus duly returned at night-fall and again, when he had closed
the entrance and seen to his flocks, he caught up two more of the
Greeks to make his supper. Half of his twelve men having thus been
devoured, Ulysses brought to the blood-stained monster a milk-pail
filled from the wine-skin.
"Deign, O Cyclops," he cried on bended knee, "to taste this precious
blood of the grape that rightly crowns a Greek banquet. It is well we
have saved from our wreck one skin to offer thee, that may move thy
heart to send us on our way unhurt, and not without some friendly
boon. Else thy thirst for human blood will scare all men from this
hateful shore, and never again canst thou come by such noble drink.
Taste and know!"
The greedy giant snatched up the bowl and drained it to the bottom;
then, smacking his lips for delight, he held it out to be refilled.
"Truly, it is noble drink, such as was never known in our land! Speak,
stranger. Who art thou that bringest the nectar of the gods? Thy
name?"