Book X · Moly Breaks the Spell · Scene 3 of 5
Circè swears no harm, feasts him
35“She spoke, and I replied: ‘How can you ask,
O Circe, that I gently deal with you,
Since you, in your own palace, have transformed
My friends to swine, and plot even now
To keep me with you, luring me to pass
Into your chamber and to share your couch,
That you may strip me of my manly strength
I come not to your couch till you engage,
O goddess, by a solemn oath, that you
Will never seek to do me further harm.’
36“I spoke; she straightway took the oath required,
And, after it was uttered and confirmed,
Up to her sumptuous couch I went. Meanwhile
Four diligent maidens ministered within
The palace —servants of the household they,
Who had their birth from fountains and from groves,
And sacred rivers flowing to the sea.
One spread the thrones with gorgeous coverings;
Above was purple arras, and beneath
Were linen webs; another, setting forth
The silver tables just before the thrones,
Placed on them canisters of gold; a third
Mingled the rich wines in a silver bowl,
And placed the golden cups; and, last, the fourth
Brought water from the fountain, and beneath
A massive tripod kindled a great fire
And warmed the water. When it boiled within
The shining brass, she led me to the bath,
And washed me from the tripod. On my head
And shoulders pleasantly she shed the streams
That from my members took away the sense
Of weariness, unmanning body and mind.
And when she thus had bathed me and with oil
Anointed me, she put a princely cloak
And tunic on me, led me in, and showed
My seat —a stately silver-studded throne,
High-wrought —and placed a footstool for my feet.
Then came a handmaid with a golden ewer,
And from it poured pure water for my hands
Into a silver laver. Next she placed
A polished table near to me, on which
The matron of the palace laid the feast,
With many delicacies from her store,
And bade me eat. The banquet pleased me not.
My thoughts were elsewhere; dark imaginings
Were in my mind. When Circe marked my mood,
As in a gloomy revery I sat,
And put not forth my hands to touch the feast,
She came to me and spoke these winged words: —
Homer, The Odyssey, translated by William Cullen Bryant, 1871. Public domain.