Some of you have heard, no doubt, of the wise King Ulysses, and how he
went to the siege of Troy, and how, after that famous city was taken and
burned, he spent ten long years in trying to get back again to his
own little kingdom of Ithaca. At one time in the course of this weary
voyage, he arrived at an island that looked very green and pleasant, but
the name of which was unknown to him. For, only a little while before
he came thither, he had met with a terrible hurricane, or rather a great
many hurricanes at once, which drove his fleet of vessels into a strange
part of the sea, where neither himself nor any of his mariners had ever
sailed. This misfortune was entirely owing to the foolish curiosity of
his shipmates, who, while Ulysses lay asleep, had untied some very
bulky leathern bags, in which they supposed a valuable treasure to be
concealed. But in each of these stout bags, King Aeolus, the ruler of
the winds, had tied up a tempest, and had given it to Ulysses to keep in
order that he might be sure of a favorable passage homeward to Ithaca;
and when the strings were loosened, forth rushed the whistling blasts,
like air out of a blown bladder, whitening the sea with foam, and
scattering the vessels nobody could tell whither.
Immediately after escaping from this peril, a still greater one had
befallen him. Scudding before the hurricane, he reached a place, which,
as he afterwards found, was called Laestrygonia, where some monstrous
giants had eaten up many of his companions, and had sunk every one of
his vessels, except that in which he himself sailed, by flinging great
masses of rock at them, from the cliffs along the shore. After going
through such troubles as these, you cannot wonder that King Ulysses
was glad to moor his tempest-beaten bark in a quiet cove of the green
island, which I began with telling you about. But he had encountered so
many dangers from giants, and one-eyed Cyclops, and monsters of the sea
and land, that he could not help dreading some mischief, even in this
pleasant and seemingly solitary spot. For two days, therefore, the poor
weather-worn voyagers kept quiet, and either staid on board of their
vessel, or merely crept along under the cliffs that bordered the shore;
and to keep themselves alive, they dug shellfish out of the sand, and
sought for any little rill of fresh water that might be running towards
the sea.
Before the two days were spent, they grew very weary of this kind of
life; for the followers of King Ulysses, as you will find it important
to remember, were terrible gormandizers, and pretty sure to grumble
if they missed their regulars meals, and their irregular ones besides.
Their stock of provisions was quite exhausted, and even the shellfish
began to get scarce, so that they had now to choose between starving to
death or venturing into the interior of the island, where perhaps some
huge three-headed dragon, or other horrible monster, had his den. Such
misshapen creatures were very numerous in those days; and nobody ever
expected to make a voyage, or take a journey, without running more or
less risk of being devoured by them.
But King Ulysses was a bold man as well as a prudent one; and on the
third morning he determined to discover what sort of a place the island
was, and whether it were possible to obtain a supply of food for the
hungry mouths of his companions. So, taking a spear in his hand, he
clambered to the summit of a cliff, and gazed round about him. At a
distance, towards the center of the island, he beheld the stately towers
of what seemed to be a palace, built of snow-white marble, and rising in
the midst of a grove of lofty trees. The thick branches of these trees
stretched across the front of the edifice, and more than half concealed
it, although, from the portion which he saw, Ulysses judged it to be
spacious and exceedingly beautiful, and probably the residence of some
great nobleman or prince. A blue smoke went curling up from the chimney,
and was almost the pleasantest part of the spectacle to Ulysses. For,
from the abundance of this smoke, it was reasonable to conclude that
there was a good fire in the kitchen, and that, at dinner-time, a
plentiful banquet would be served up to the inhabitants of the palace,
and to whatever guests might happen to drop in.
With so agreeable a prospect before him, Ulysses fancied that he could
not do better than go straight to the palace gate, and tell the master
of it that there was a crew of poor shipwrecked mariners, not far off,
who had eaten nothing for a day or two, save a few clams and oysters,
and would therefore be thankful for a little food. And the prince or
nobleman must be a very stingy curmudgeon, to be sure, if, at least,
when his own dinner was over, he would not bid them welcome to the
broken victuals from the table.
Pleasing himself with this idea, King Ulysses had made a few steps
in the direction of the palace, when there was a great twittering and
chirping from the branch of a neighboring tree. A moment afterwards, a
bird came flying towards him, and hovered in the air, so as almost to
brush his face with its wings. It was a very pretty little bird, with
purple wings and body, and yellow legs, and a circle of golden feathers
round its neck, and on its head a golden tuft, which looked like a
king's crown in miniature. Ulysses tried to catch the bird. But it
fluttered nimbly out of his reach, still chirping in a piteous tone, as
if it could have told a lamentable story, had it only been gifted with
human language. And when he attempted to drive it away, the bird flew no
farther than the bough of the next tree, and again came fluttering about
his head, with its doleful chirp, as soon as he showed a purpose of
going forward.
"Have you anything to tell me, little bird?" asked Ulysses.
"Have you anything to tell me, little bird?" asked Ulysses.
And he was ready to listen attentively to whatever the bird might
communicate; for, at the siege of Troy, and elsewhere, he had known such
odd things to happen, that he would not have considered it much out of
the common run had this little feathered creature talked as plainly as
himself.
"Peep!" said the bird, "peep, peep, pe--weep!" And nothing else would it
say, but only, "Peep, peep, pe--weep!" in a melancholy cadence, and over
and over and over again. As often as Ulysses moved forward, however, the
bird showed the greatest alarm, and did its best to drive him back, with
the anxious flutter of its purple wings. Its unaccountable behavior made
him conclude, at last, that the bird knew of some danger that awaited
him, and which must needs be very terrible, beyond all question, since
it moved even a little fowl to feel compassion for a human being. So
he resolved, for the present, to return to the vessel, and tell his
companions what he had seen.
This appeared to satisfy the bird. As soon as Ulysses turned back, it
ran up the trunk of a tree, and began to pick insects out of the bark
with its long, sharp bill; for it was a kind of woodpecker, you must
know, and had to get its living in the same manner as other birds of
that species. But every little while, as it pecked at the bark of
the tree, the purple bird bethought itself of some secret sorrow, and
repeated its plaintive note of "Peep, peep, pe--weep!"
On his way to the shore, Ulysses had the good luck to kill a large stag
by thrusting his spear into his back. Taking it on his shoulders (for he
was a remarkably strong man), he lugged it along with him, and flung
it down before his hungry companions. I have already hinted to you what
gormandizers some of the comrades of King Ulysses were. From what is
related of them, I reckon that their favorite diet was pork, and that
they had lived upon it until a good part of their physical substance was
swine's flesh, and their tempers and dispositions were very much akin to
the hog. A dish of venison, however, was no unacceptable meal to them,
especially after feeding so long on oysters and clams. So, beholding the
dead stag, they felt of its ribs, in a knowing way, and lost no time in
kindling a fire of driftwood, to cook it. The rest of the day was spent
in feasting; and if these enormous eaters got up from table at sunset,
it was only because they could not scrape another morsel off the poor
animal's bones.
The next morning, their appetites were as sharp as ever. They looked at
Ulysses, as if they expected him to clamber up the cliff again, and come
back with another fat deer upon his shoulders. Instead of setting out,
however, he summoned the whole crew together, and told them it was in
vain to hope that he could kill a stag every day for their dinner, and
therefore it was advisable to think of some other mode of satisfying
their hunger.
"Now," said he, "when I was on the cliff, yesterday, I discovered that
this island is inhabited. At a considerable distance from the shore
stood a marble palace, which appeared to be very spacious, and had a
great deal of smoke curling out of one of its chimneys."
"Aha!" muttered some of his companions, smacking their lips. "That smoke
must have come from the kitchen fire. There was a good dinner on the
spit; and no doubt there will be as good a one to-day."
"But," continued the wise Ulysses, "you must remember, my good friends,
our misadventure in the cavern of one-eyed Polyphemus, the Cyclops!
Instead of his ordinary milk diet, did he not eat up two of our comrades
for his supper, and a couple more for breakfast, and two at his supper
again? Methinks I see him yet, the hideous monster, scanning us with
that great red eye, in the middle of his forehead, to single out the
fattest. And then, again, only a few days ago, did we not fall into the
hands of the king of the Laestrygons, and those other horrible giants,
his subjects, who devoured a great many more of us than are now left? To
tell you the truth, if we go to yonder palace, there can be no question
that we shall make our appearance at the dinner table; but whether
seated as guests, or served up as food, is a point to be seriously
considered."
"Either way," murmured some of the hungriest of the crew; "it will be
better than starvation; particularly if one could be sure of being well
fattened beforehand, and daintily cooked afterwards."
"That is a matter of taste," said King Ulysses, "and, for my own part,
neither the most careful fattening nor the daintiest of cookery would
reconcile me to being dished at last. My proposal is, therefore, that we
divide ourselves into two equal parties, and ascertain, by drawing
lots, which of the two shall go to the palace, and beg for food and
assistance. If these can be obtained, all is well. If not, and if the
inhabitants prove as inhospitable as Polyphemus, or the Laestrygons,
then there will but half of us perish, and the remainder may set sail
and escape."
As nobody objected to this scheme, Ulysses proceeded to count the whole
band, and found that there were forty-six men, including himself. He
then numbered off twenty-two of them, and put Eurylochus (who was one
of his chief officers, and second only to himself in sagacity) at their
head. Ulysses took command of the remaining twenty-two men, in person.
Then, taking off his helmet, he put two shells into it, on one of which
was written, "Go," and on the other "Stay." Another person now held the
helmet, while Ulysses and Eurylochus drew out each a shell; and the
word "Go" was found written on that which Eurylochus had drawn. In
this manner, it was decided that Ulysses and his twenty-two men were to
remain at the seaside until the other party should have found out what
sort of treatment they might expect at the mysterious palace. As there
was no help for it, Eurylochus immediately set forth at the head of his
twenty-two followers, who went off in a very melancholy state of mind,
leaving their friends in hardly better spirits than themselves.
No sooner had they clambered up the cliff, than they discerned the tall
marble towers of the palace, ascending, as white as snow, out of the
lovely green shadow of the trees which surrounded it. A gush of smoke
came from a chimney in the rear of the edifice. This vapor rose high
in the air, and, meeting with a breeze, was wafted seaward, and made to
pass over the heads of the hungry mariners. When people's appetites are
keen, they have a very quick scent for anything savory in the wind.
"That smoke comes from the kitchen!" cried one of them, turning up his
nose as high as he could, and snuffing eagerly. "And, as sure as I'm a
half-starved vagabond, I smell roast meat in it."
"Pig, roast pig!" said another. "Ah, the dainty little porker. My mouth
waters for him."
"Let us make haste," cried the others, "or we shall be too late for the
good cheer!"
But scarcely had they made half a dozen steps from the edge of the
cliff, when a bird came fluttering to meet them. It was the same pretty
little bird, with the purple wings and body, the yellow legs, the golden
collar round its neck, and the crown-like tuft upon its head, whose
behavior had so much surprised Ulysses. It hovered about Eurylochus, and
almost brushed his face with its wings.
"Peep, peep, pe--weep!" chirped the bird.
So plaintively intelligent was the sound, that it seemed as if the
little creature were going to break its heart with some mighty secret
that it had to tell, and only this one poor note to tell it with.
"My pretty bird," said Eurylochus--for he was a wary person, and let no
token of harm escape his notice--"my pretty bird, who sent you hither?
And what is the message which you bring?"
"Peep, peep, pe--weep!" replied the bird, very sorrowfully.
Then it flew towards the edge of the cliff, and looked around at them,
as if exceedingly anxious that they should return whence they came.
Eurylochus and a few of the others were inclined to turn back. They
could not help suspecting that the purple bird must be aware of
something mischievous that would befall them at the palace, and the
knowledge of which affected its airy spirit with a human sympathy and
sorrow. But the rest of the voyagers, snuffing up the smoke from the
palace kitchen, ridiculed the idea of returning to the vessel. One of
them (more brutal than his fellows, and the most notorious gormandizer
in the crew) said such a cruel and wicked thing, that I wonder the mere
thought did not turn him into a wild beast, in shape, as he already was
in his nature.
"This troublesome and impertinent little fowl," said he, "would make
a delicate titbit to begin dinner with. Just one plump morsel, melting
away between the teeth. If he comes within my reach, I'll catch him, and
give him to the palace cook to be roasted on a skewer."
The words were hardly out of his mouth, before the purple bird flew
away, crying, "Peep, peep, pe--weep," more dolorously than ever.
"That bird," remarked Eurylochus, "knows more than we do about what
awaits us at the palace."
"Come on, then," cried his comrades, "and we'll soon know as much as he
does."
The party, accordingly, went onward through the green and pleasant wood.
Every little while they caught new glimpses of the marble palace, which
looked more and more beautiful the nearer they approached it. They soon
entered a broad pathway, which seemed to be very neatly kept, and which
went winding along, with streaks of sunshine falling across it and
specks of light quivering among the deepest shadows that fell from the
lofty trees. It was bordered, too, with a great many sweet-smelling
flowers, such as the mariners had never seen before. So rich and
beautiful they were, that, if the shrubs grew wild here, and were native
in the soil, then this island was surely the flower garden of the whole
earth; or, if transplanted from some other clime, it must have been from
the Happy Islands that lay towards the golden sunset.
"There has been a great deal of pains foolishly wasted on these
flowers," observed one of the company; and I tell you what he said, that
you may keep in mind what gormandizers they were. "For my part, if I
were the owner of the palace, I would bid my gardener cultivate nothing
but savory pot herbs to make a stuffing for roast meat, or to flavor a
stew with."
"Well said!" cried the others. "But I'll warrant you there's a kitchen
garden in the rear of the palace."
At one place they came to a crystal spring, and paused to drink at it
for want of liquor which they liked better. Looking into its bosom, they
beheld their own faces dimly reflected, but so extravagantly distorted
by the gush and motion of the water, that each one of them appeared to
be laughing at himself and all his companions. So ridiculous were these
images of themselves, indeed, that they did really laugh aloud, and
could hardly be grave again as soon as they wished. And after they had
drank, they grew still merrier than before.
"It has a twang of the wine cask in it," said one, smacking his lips.
"Make haste!" cried his fellows: "we'll find the wine cask itself at the
palace, and that will be better than a hundred crystal fountains."
Then they quickened their pace, and capered for joy at the thought of
the savory banquet at which they hoped to be guests. But Eurylochus told
them that he felt as if he were walking in a dream.
"If I am really awake," continued he, "then, in my opinion, we are on
the point of meeting with some stranger adventure than any that
befell us in the cave of Polyphemus, or among the gigantic man-eating
Laestrygons, or in the windy palace of King Aeolus, which stands on a
brazen-walled island. This kind of dreamy feeling always comes over me
before any wonderful occurrence. If you take my advice, you will turn
back."
"No, no," answered his comrades, snuffing the air, in which the scent
from the palace kitchen was now very perceptible. "We would not turn
back, though we were certain that the king of the Laestrygons, as big as
a mountain, would sit at the head of the table, and huge Polyphemus, the
one-eyed Cyclops, at its foot."
At length they came within full sight of the palace, which proved to
be very large and lofty, with a great number of airy pinnacles upon its
roof. Though it was midday, and the sun shone brightly over the marble
front, yet its snowy whiteness, and its fantastic style of architecture,
made it look unreal, like the frost work on a window pane, or like the
shapes of castles which one sees among the clouds by moonlight. But,
just then, a puff of wind brought down the smoke of the kitchen chimney
among them, and caused each man to smell the odor of the dish that
he liked best; and, after scenting it, they thought everything else
moonshine, and nothing real save this palace, and save the banquet that
was evidently ready to be served up in it.
So they hastened their steps towards the portal, but had not got half
way across the wide lawn, when a pack of lions, tigers, and wolves came
bounding to meet them. The terrified mariners started back, expecting
no better fate than to be torn to pieces and devoured. To their surprise
and joy, however, these wild beasts merely capered around them, wagging
their tails, offering their heads to be stroked and patted, and behaving
just like so many well-bred house dogs, when they wish to express their
delight at meeting their master, or their master's friends. The biggest
lion licked the feet of Eurylochus; and every other lion, and every wolf
and tiger, singled out one of his two and twenty followers, whom the
beast fondled as if he loved him better than a beef bone.
But, for all that, Eurylochus imagined that he saw something fierce and
savage in their eyes; nor would he have been surprised, at any moment,
to feel the big lion's terrible claws, or to see each of the tigers make
a deadly spring, or each wolf leap at the throat of the man whom he
had fondled. Their mildness seemed unreal, and a mere freak; but their
savage nature was as true as their teeth and claws.
Nevertheless, the men went safely across the lawn with the wild beasts
frisking about them, and doing no manner of harm; although, as they
mounted the steps of the palace, you might possibly have heard a low
growl, particularly from the wolves; as if they thought it a pity, after
all, to let the strangers pass without so much as tasting what they were
made of.
Eurylochus and his followers now passed under a lofty portal, and looked
through the open doorway into the interior of the palace. The first
thing that they saw was a spacious hall, and a fountain in the middle
of it, gushing up towards the ceiling out of a marble basin, and falling
back into it with a continual plash. The water of this fountain, as it
spouted upward, was constantly taking new shapes, not very distinctly,
but plainly enough for a nimble fancy to recognize what they were. Now
it was the shape of a man in a long robe, the fleecy whiteness of which
was made out of the fountain's spray; now it was a lion, or a tiger, or
a wolf, or an ass, or, as often as anything else, a hog, wallowing in
the marble basin as if it were his sty. It was either magic or some very
curious machinery that caused the gushing waterspout to assume all
these forms. But, before the strangers had time to look closely at
this wonderful sight, their attention was drawn off by a very sweet and
agreeable sound. A woman's voice was singing melodiously in another room
of the palace, and with her voice was mingled the noise of a loom, at
which she was probably seated, weaving a rich texture of cloth, and
intertwining the high and low sweetness of her voice into a rich tissue
of harmony.
By and by, the song came to an end; and then, all at once, there were
several feminine voices, talking airily and cheerfully, with now and
then a merry burst of laughter, such as you may always hear when three
or four young women sit at work together.
"What a sweet song that was!" exclaimed one of the voyagers.
"Too sweet, indeed," answered Eurylochus, shaking his head. "Yet it
was not so sweet as the song of the Sirens, those bird-like damsels who
wanted to tempt us on the rocks, so that our vessel might be wrecked,
and our bones left whitening along the shore."
"But just listen to the pleasant voices of those maidens, and that buzz
of the loom, as the shuttle passes to and fro," said another comrade.
"What a domestic, household, home-like sound it is! Ah, before that
weary siege of Troy, I used to hear the buzzing loom and the women's
voices under my own roof. Shall I never hear them again? nor taste those
nice little savory dishes which my dearest wife knew how to serve up?"
"Tush! we shall fare better here," said another. "But how innocently
those women are babbling together, without guessing that we overhear
them! And mark that richest voice of all, so pleasant and so familiar,
but which yet seems to have the authority of a mistress among them. Let
us show ourselves at once. What harm can the lady of the palace and her
maidens do to mariners and warriors like us?"
"Remember," said Eurylochus, "that it was a young maiden who beguiled
three of our friends into the palace of the king of the Laestrygons, who
ate up one of them in the twinkling of an eye."
No warning or persuasion, however, had any effect on his companions.
They went up to a pair of folding doors at the farther end of the hall,
and throwing them wide open, passed into the next room. Eurylochus,
meanwhile, had stepped behind a pillar. In the short moment while the
folding doors opened and closed again, he caught a glimpse of a very
beautiful woman rising from the loom, and coming to meet the poor
weather-beaten wanderers, with a hospitable smile, and her hand
stretched out in welcome. There were four other young women, who joined
their hands and danced merrily forward, making gestures of obeisance to
the strangers. They were only less beautiful than the lady who seemed to
be their mistress. Yet Eurylochus fancied that one of them had sea-green
hair, and that the close-fitting bodice of a second looked like the bark
of a tree, and that both the others had something odd in their aspect,
although he could not quite determine what it was, in the little while
that he had to examine them.
The folding doors swung quickly back, and left him standing behind the
pillar, in the solitude of the outer hall. There Eurylochus waited until
he was quite weary, and listened eagerly to every sound, but without
hearing anything that could help him to guess what had become of his
friends. Footsteps, it is true, seemed to be passing and repassing, in
other parts of the palace. Then there was a clatter of silver dishes,
or golden ones, which made him imagine a rich feast in a splendid
banqueting hall. But by and by he heard a tremendous grunting and
squealing, and then a sudden scampering, like that of small, hard hoofs
over a marble floor, while the voices of the mistress and her four
handmaidens were screaming all together, in tones of anger and derision.
Eurylochus could not conceive what had happened, unless a drove of
swine had broken into the palace, attracted by the smell of the feast.
Chancing to cast his eyes at the fountain, he saw that it did not shift
its shape, as formerly, nor looked either like a long-robed man, or
a lion, a tiger, a wolf, or an ass. It looked like nothing but a hog,
which lay wallowing in the marble basin, and filled it from brim to
brim.
But we must leave the prudent Eurylochus waiting in the outer hall, and
follow his friends into the inner secrecy of the palace. As soon as the
beautiful woman saw them, she arose from the loom, as I have told you,
and came forward, smiling, and stretching out her hand. She took the
hand of the foremost among them, and bade him and the whole party
welcome.
"You have been long expected, my good friends," said she. "I and my
maidens are well acquainted with you, although you do not appear to
recognize us. Look at this piece of tapestry, and judge if your faces
must not have been familiar to us."
So the voyagers examined the web of cloth which the beautiful woman
had been weaving in her loom; and, to their vast astonishment, they saw
their own figures perfectly represented in different colored threads. It
was a life-like picture of their recent adventures, showing them in the
cave of Polyphemus, and how they had put out his one great moony eye;
while in another part of the tapestry they were untying the leathern
bags, puffed out with contrary winds; and farther on, they beheld
themselves scampering away from the gigantic king of the Laestrygons,
who had caught one of them by the leg. Lastly, there they were, sitting
on the desolate shore of this very island, hungry and downcast, and
looking ruefully at the bare bones of the stag which they devoured
yesterday. This was as far as the work had yet proceeded; but when the
beautiful woman should again sit down at her loom, she would probably
make a picture of what had since happened to the strangers, and of what
was now going to happen.
"You see," she said, "that I know all about your troubles; and you
cannot doubt that I desire to make you happy for as long a time as you
may remain with me. For this purpose, my honored guests, I have ordered
a banquet to be prepared. Fish, fowl, and flesh, roasted, and in
luscious stews, and seasoned, I trust, to all your tastes, are ready to
be served up. If your appetites tell you it is dinner time, then come
with me to the festal saloon."
At this kind invitation, the hungry mariners were quite overjoyed;
and one of them, taking upon himself to be spokesman, assured their
hospitable hostess that any hour of the day was dinner time with them,
whenever they could get flesh to put in the pot, and fire to boil it
with. So the beautiful woman led the way; and the four maidens (one of
them had sea-green hair, another a bodice of oak bark, a third sprinkled
a shower of water drops from her fingers' ends, and the fourth had some
other oddity, which I have forgotten), all these followed behind, and
hurried the guests along, until they entered a magnificent saloon. It
was built in a perfect oval, and lighted from a crystal dome above.
Around the walls were ranged two and twenty thrones, overhung by
canopies of crimson and gold, and provided with the softest of cushions,
which were tasselled and fringed with gold cord. Each of the
strangers was invited to sit down; and there they were, two and twenty
storm-beaten mariners, in worn and tattered garb, sitting on two and
twenty cushioned and canopied thrones, so rich and gorgeous that the
proudest monarch had nothing more splendid in his stateliest hall.
Then you might have seen the guests nodding, winking with one eye, and
leaning from one throne to another, to communicate their satisfaction in
hoarse whispers.
"Our good hostess has made kings of us all," said one. "Ha! do you
smell the feast? I'll engage it will be fit to set before two and twenty
kings."
"I hope," said another, "it will be, mainly, good substantial joints,
sirloins, spareribs, and hinder quarters, without too many kickshaws. If
I thought the good lady would not take it amiss, I should call for a fat
slice of fried bacon to begin with."
Ah, the gluttons and gormandizers! You see how it was with them. In the
loftiest seats of dignity, on royal thrones, they could think of nothing
but their greedy appetite, which was the portion of their nature that
they shared with wolves and swine; so that they resembled those vilest
of animals far more than they did kings--if, indeed, kings were what
they ought to be.
But the beautiful woman now clapped her hands; and immediately there
entered a train of two and twenty serving man, bringing dishes of the
richest food, all hot from the kitchen fire, and sending up such a steam
that it hung like a cloud below the crystal dome of the saloon. An equal
number of attendants brought great flagons of wine, of various kinds,
some of which sparkled as it was poured out, and went bubbling down the
throat; while, of other sorts, the purple liquor was so clear that you
could see the wrought figures at the bottom of the goblet. While the
servants supplied the two and twenty guests with food and drink, the
hostess and her four maidens went from one throne to another, exhorting
them to eat their fill, and to quaff wine abundantly, and thus to
recompense themselves, at this one banquet, for the many days when they
had gone without a dinner. But whenever the mariners were not looking at
them (which was pretty often, as they looked chiefly into the basins
and platters), the beautiful woman and her damsels turned aside, and
laughed. Even the servants, as they knelt down to present the dishes,
might be seen to grin and sneer, while the guests were helping
themselves to the offered dainties.
And, once in a while, the strangers seemed to taste something that they
did not like.
"Here is an odd kind of spice in this dish," said one. "I can't say it
quite suits my palate. Down it goes, however."
"Send a good draught of wine down your throat," said his comrade on
the next throne. "That is the stuff to make this sort of cookery relish
well. Though I must needs say, the wine has a queer taste too. But the
more I drink of it, the better I like the flavor."
Whatever little fault they might find with the dishes, they sat at
dinner 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 hog-pen. 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!" he cried, "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
tomorrow. 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,
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 Aetes) 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
disposition 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 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."
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
apartment 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
cushions and canopied thrones, greedily devouring dainties, and quaffing
deep draughts of wine. The work had not yet gone any further. O, 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 Aetes, 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 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 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 enchant meets. 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.
"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 on 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--wee--e!"
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 a 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 life-long 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.
