Book 10
1 We came to the Aeolian island. There lived Aeolus, son of Hippotas, dear to the immortal gods, on a floating island; all around it runs a wall of unbreakable bronze, and the rock rises sheer. Twelve children were born to him in his halls, six daughters and six sons in the prime of youth, and he gave his daughters to his sons to be their wives. They feast forever beside their dear father and their loyal mother, and countless good things lie before them, and all day long the house, full of the savor of roasting meat, echoes around the courtyard; and at night they sleep beside their revered wives under coverlets on corded beds. To their city and their fine house we came. For a whole month he made me welcome and questioned me about everything, about Ilion and the ships of the Argives and the homecoming of the Achaeans; and I told him all of it in due order. But when I in my turn asked to be on my way and begged him to send me off, he did not refuse me at all, and he prepared my passage. He flayed a nine-year-old ox and gave me its hide made into a bag, and in it he bound the paths of the blustering winds; for the son of Cronus had made him keeper of the winds, to calm or to rouse whichever he wishes. He tied the bag fast in my hollow ship with a shining silver cord, so that not even a little breath could slip past; but for me he sent the breath of the West Wind to blow, to carry the ships and ourselves along. But he was not going to bring it to pass: we were ruined by our own folly.
28 For nine days we sailed, night and day alike, and on the tenth our native fields were already coming into view, and we were so close that we could see men tending fires. Then sweet sleep came over me in my weariness, for I had been handling the sheet of the ship all the while and had not given it to any of my companions, so that we might come the sooner to our native land. But my companions talked among themselves, and said that I was bringing home gold and silver for myself, gifts from Aeolus, great-hearted son of Hippotas. And one would say, looking at his neighbor:
38 “Oh, for shame! How loved and honored this man is by everyone, whatever people’s city and land he comes to! He is bringing home many fine treasures from Troy, out of the plunder, while we, who have made the same journey, go home with empty hands. And now Aeolus has given him all this, out of friendship, to please him. But come, let us quickly see what this is, how much gold and silver there is in the bag.”
46 So they spoke, and the evil counsel of my companions won. They untied the bag, and all the winds rushed out. At once the storm caught them up and carried them out to sea, weeping, away from their native land. But I woke up, and pondered in my excellent heart whether to throw myself from the ship and perish in the sea, or to endure in silence and still remain among the living. I endured and stayed, and lay in the ship with my face covered. And the ships were carried by the evil blast of the wind back to the Aeolian island, and my companions groaned.
56 There we went ashore and drew water, and at once my companions took their meal beside the swift ships. When we had tasted food and drink, I took a herald and one companion with me and went to the famous house of Aeolus; and I found him feasting beside his wife and his children. We went into the house and sat down on the threshold by the doorposts; and they were amazed in their hearts and questioned us:
64 “How is it you have come back, Odysseus? What evil power has fallen on you? We sent you off with every care, so that you could reach your native land and your home, and wherever you pleased.”
67 So they spoke, and I answered them, grieving at heart: “My bad companions ruined me, and cruel sleep besides. But set it right, friends; the power is yours.”
70 So I spoke, appealing to them with gentle words; but they fell silent, and the father answered:
72 “Get off this island at once, most shameful of living men! It is not right for me to help or send on his way a man whom the blessed gods hate. Go! You come here hated by the immortals.”
76 So he spoke, and sent me from the house groaning heavily. From there we sailed on, grieving at heart. The men’s spirits were worn down by the painful rowing, through our own folly, since there was no longer any sign of a passage home. For six days we sailed, night and day alike, and on the seventh we came to the steep citadel of Lamus, Telepylus in the Laestrygonians’ land, where herdsman calls to herdsman as he drives his flock in, and the one driving out answers him. There a man who needed no sleep could earn a double wage, one for herding cattle and one for pasturing white sheep, for the paths of night and day are close together. When we came into the famous harbor, around which a towering cliff runs unbroken on both sides, and two jutting headlands facing each other stretch out at the mouth, and the entrance is narrow, there all the others steered their curved ships inside. They were moored inside the hollow harbor, close together, for no wave ever rose in it, great or small, and there was a bright calm all around. But I alone kept my black ship outside, there at the very edge, and tied the cables to a rock; and I climbed to a rugged lookout and stood there. No works of oxen or of men could be seen, only smoke that we saw rising from the land. Then I sent some of my companions ahead to go and find out what men these were who ate bread upon the earth, choosing two men and sending a third with them as herald. They went ashore and took a smooth road, by which wagons brought wood down to the city from the high mountains; and in front of the city they met a girl drawing water, the stately daughter of Antiphates the Laestrygonian. She had come down to the clear-flowing spring Artacia, for they used to carry water from there to the city. They went up to her and spoke to her and asked who was king of these people, and over whom he ruled; and at once she pointed out her father’s high-roofed house. When they went into the famous house, they found his wife there, as huge as a mountain peak, and they were horrified at her. At once she called the famous Antiphates from the place of assembly, her husband, who planned a miserable death for them. At once he seized one of my companions and made a meal of him; and the other two sprang away and fled and reached the ships. Then he raised a cry through the city, and the mighty Laestrygonians heard it and came flocking from every side, thousands of them, not like men but like Giants. They pelted us from the cliffs with boulders a man could hardly lift, and at once a dreadful din rose from the ships, of men dying and ships being smashed together; and spearing the men like fish they carried them off to a joyless meal. While they were killing them inside the deep harbor, I drew the sharp sword from beside my thigh and cut with it the cables of my dark-prowed ship. At once I urged my companions on and ordered them to throw their weight on the oars, so that we might escape from evil; and they all made the sea fly up, fearing destruction. Gladly my ship fled out to sea from the overhanging cliffs; but the rest perished there all together.
133 From there we sailed on, grieving at heart, glad to have escaped death, though we had lost our dear companions. We came to the island of Aeaea. There lived lovely-haired Circe, dread goddess with a human voice, full sister of baleful-minded Aeetes; both were born of Helios, who gives light to mortals, and of their mother Perse, whom Ocean had for a child. There we brought our ship in to the shore in silence, into a harbor where ships could lie, and some god was guiding us. Then we went ashore and for two days and two nights we lay there, eating our hearts out with weariness and grief. But when lovely-haired Dawn brought the third day to its fullness, then I took my spear and my sharp sword and went quickly up from the ship to a place with a wide view, to see if I could catch sight of the works of mortals or hear their voices. I climbed to a rugged lookout and stood there, and I saw smoke rising from the broad-wayed earth, in the halls of Circe, through the thick brush and the woods. Then I pondered in my mind and heart whether to go and find out, since I had seen the fiery smoke. And as I thought it over, this seemed to me the better way: first to go back to the swift ship and the seashore, give my companions their meal, and send them out to find out. But when I was coming near the curved ship on my way, then some god took pity on me in my loneliness, and sent a great stag with towering antlers right into my path. He was coming down to the river from his pasture in the woods to drink, for the power of the sun had come over him. As he came out I struck him in the middle of the back, by the spine, and the bronze spear went clean through him, and he fell in the dust with a cry, and his life flew away. I set my foot on him and drew the bronze spear out of the wound, and laid it down there on the ground and left it. Then I pulled up brushwood and willow shoots, and plaited a rope about a fathom long, well twisted from end to end, and tied together the feet of the dreadful monster, and went to the black ship carrying him across my neck, leaning on my spear, since there was no way to carry him on my shoulder with one hand: he was a very great beast. I threw him down in front of the ship and roused my companions with gentle words, standing beside each man in turn:
174 “Friends, we will not go down to the house of Hades yet, grieved as we are, before our day of doom comes. But come, while there is food and drink in the swift ship, let us think of eating, and not waste away with hunger.”
178 So I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words. They uncovered their faces there on the shore of the barren sea and gazed at the stag, for he was a very great beast. And when they had taken their fill of looking at him with their eyes, they washed their hands and prepared a glorious feast. So all day long until the sun went down we sat feasting on meat beyond measure and sweet wine. When the sun went down and darkness came on, then we lay down to sleep on the shore where the waves break. When early-born Dawn appeared, the rose-fingered, then I called an assembly and spoke among them all:
189 “Listen to my words, companions, for all you have suffered. Friends, we do not know where the darkness is or where the dawn, where the sun who gives light to mortals goes down beneath the earth or where he rises. But let us consider quickly whether any plan is left to us. I do not think there is. For I climbed to a rugged lookout and saw that this is an island, ringed around by the boundless sea. The island itself lies low, and in the middle of it I saw smoke with my eyes, through the thick brush and the woods.”
198 So I spoke, and their hearts were broken within them, as they remembered the deeds of Antiphates the Laestrygonian and the violence of the great-hearted Cyclops, the eater of men. They wept aloud, shedding big tears; but nothing came of their lamenting.
203 Then I counted off all my well-greaved companions into two bands, and gave each band a leader. I led one, and godlike Eurylochus the other. Quickly we shook the lots in a bronze helmet, and out jumped the lot of great-hearted Eurylochus. He set off, and twenty-two companions with him, weeping; and they left us behind lamenting. In the glens they found the house of Circe, built of polished stone, in a place that could be seen from all around. Around it were mountain wolves and lions, whom she herself had bewitched by giving them evil drugs. They did not rush at the men, but rose and came fawning around them, wagging their long tails. As when dogs fawn around their master when he comes from a feast, for he always brings them scraps to please them, so the wolves and the strong-clawed lions fawned around these men; but they were afraid when they saw the dreadful monsters. They stood in the gateway of the goddess with the lovely braids, and they heard Circe inside singing in a lovely voice as she went to and fro at her great immortal loom, at such work as goddesses do, fine and graceful and glorious. Then Polites, leader of men, the dearest of my companions to me and the most trusted, began to speak to them:
226 “Friends, someone inside is going to and fro at a great loom and singing beautifully, and the whole floor echoes with it, a goddess or a woman. Come, let us call out to her quickly.”
229 So he spoke, and they called out to her. At once she came out and opened the shining doors and invited them in; and they all went with her in their ignorance. Only Eurylochus stayed behind, for he suspected a trick. She led them in and seated them on chairs and high seats, and mixed them cheese and barley meal and pale honey in Pramnian wine; but into the food she mixed baneful drugs, so that they would utterly forget their native land. And when she had given it to them and they had drunk it off, at once she struck them with her wand and penned them in the pigsties. They had the heads of pigs, and the voice, the bristles, and the body; but their minds were unchanged, as they had been before. So they were penned there, weeping; and Circe threw them acorns and mast and the fruit of the cornel tree to eat, such as pigs that sleep on the ground always eat.
244 But Eurylochus came quickly back to the swift black ship, to tell the news of our companions and their bitter fate. He could not speak a word, though he tried, so stricken was his heart with great grief; his eyes were filled with tears, and his heart could think only of lamenting. But when we had all questioned him in amazement, then he told us how the rest of our companions had been lost:
251 “We went through the brush, as you ordered, shining Odysseus. In the glens we found a fine house built of polished stone, in a place that could be seen from all around. There someone was going to and fro at a great loom and singing clearly, a goddess or a woman; and they called out to her. At once she came out and opened the shining doors and invited them in; and they all went with her in their ignorance. But I stayed behind, for I suspected a trick. And they vanished all together, and not one of them came out again, though I sat there a long time keeping watch.”
261 So he spoke, and I slung my silver-studded sword around my shoulders, a great sword of bronze, and my bow around me, and ordered him to lead me back by the same way. But he clasped my knees with both hands and begged me, and lamenting he spoke to me, and his words had wings:
266 “Do not take me there against my will, Zeus-nurtured one; leave me here. I know you will not come back yourself, or bring back any of your companions. Let us flee quickly with these men here; we may still escape the evil day.”
270 So he spoke, and I answered him: “Eurylochus, you stay here, then, in this place, eating and drinking beside the hollow black ship. But I will go: a strong necessity is on me.”
274 So I spoke and went up from the ship and the sea. But when, going through the sacred glens, I was about to reach the great house of Circe of many drugs, there Hermes of the golden wand met me as I was going to the house, looking like a young man with his first beard, when youth is at its most graceful. He took my hand and spoke to me and called me by name:
281 “Where are you going now, unlucky man, through the hills alone, not knowing the country? Your companions are penned up in Circe’s house like pigs, in close-packed sties. Have you come here to set them free? I tell you, you will not come back yourself; you will stay where the others are. But come, I will free you from harm and save you. Here, take this good herb with you into Circe’s house, and it will ward off the evil day from your head. And I will tell you all of Circe’s deadly wiles. She will make you a mixed drink and put drugs into the food. But even so she will not be able to bewitch you, for the good herb that I will give you will not let her. I will tell you everything. When Circe strikes you with her long wand, then draw the sharp sword from beside your thigh and rush at Circe as if you meant to kill her. She will shrink from you in fear and invite you to go to bed with her. Then do not refuse the goddess’s bed any longer, so that she may set your companions free and take care of you yourself. But tell her to swear the great oath of the blessed gods that she will not plot any other evil harm against you, so that she does not, once you are stripped, make you a weakling and unmanned.”
302 So the slayer of Argus spoke, and gave me the herb, pulling it out of the ground, and showed me its nature. At the root it was black, but its flower was like milk. The gods call it moly. It is hard for mortal men to dig up; but the gods can do all things. Then Hermes went away to high Olympus over the wooded island, and I went on to the house of Circe, and my heart was in turmoil as I went. I stood in the gateway of the goddess with the lovely braids. There I stood and shouted, and the goddess heard my voice. At once she came out and opened the shining doors and invited me in, and I followed her, grieving at heart. She led me in and seated me on a silver-studded high seat, beautiful and finely wrought, and there was a footstool under my feet. She made me the mixed drink in a golden cup, for me to drink, and put the drug into it, with evil in her heart. And when she had given it to me and I had drunk it off, and it did not bewitch me, she struck me with her wand and spoke to me and called me by name: “Off to the sty now, and lie down with the rest of your companions.”
321 So she spoke, but I drew the sharp sword from beside my thigh and rushed at Circe as if I meant to kill her. With a loud cry she ran under my sword and clasped my knees, and lamenting she spoke to me, and her words had wings:
325 “Who are you, and where are you from? Where is your city, and where are your parents? I am amazed that you drank these drugs and were not bewitched. No other man has ever withstood these drugs, once he has drunk them and they have passed the fence of his teeth. But you have a mind in your breast that cannot be bewitched. Surely you are Odysseus, the man of many turns, who the slayer of Argus of the golden wand always told me would come, on his way back from Troy with his swift black ship. But come, put your sword in its sheath, and then let us two go up to our bed, so that, joined in bed and in love, we may trust each other.”
336 So she spoke, and I answered her: “Circe, how can you tell me to be gentle with you, when you have turned my companions into pigs in your halls, and now, keeping me here, with treachery in your heart, you tell me to go into your chamber and go up to your bed, so that once I am stripped you can make me a weakling and unmanned? I would not be willing to go up to your bed unless you would consent, goddess, to swear a great oath that you will not plot any other evil harm against me.”
345 So I spoke, and at once she swore the oath as I told her. And when she had sworn and finished the oath, then I went up to the beautiful bed of Circe.
348 All this while four maids were busy in the halls, the servants who do her work about the house. They are born of the springs and the groves and the sacred rivers that flow down to the sea. One of them spread fine coverlets on the high seats, purple above, and laid linen cloths beneath. The second drew up silver tables in front of the seats and set golden baskets on them. The third mixed sweet, honey-hearted wine in a silver mixing bowl and set out golden cups. The fourth brought water and lit a big fire under a great tripod, and the water grew warm. And when the water was boiling in the gleaming bronze, she set me in a bathtub and bathed me with water from the great tripod, mixing it to my liking, pouring it over my head and shoulders, until she took the heart-wasting weariness from my limbs. And when she had bathed me and rubbed me with oil and put a fine cloak and a tunic about me, she led me in and seated me on a silver-studded high seat, beautiful and finely wrought, and there was a footstool under my feet. A maid brought water in a lovely golden pitcher and poured it over a silver basin for me to wash my hands, and drew up a polished table beside me. The revered housekeeper brought bread and set it before me, and many dishes besides, giving freely of what she had. She told me to eat, but my heart had no pleasure in it. I sat with my mind elsewhere, and my heart foresaw evil.
375 When Circe saw me sitting there and not putting out my hands to the food, held fast by strong grief, she came and stood close by me and spoke, and her words had wings:
378 “Why do you sit like this, Odysseus, like a man without a voice, eating your heart out, and touch neither food nor drink? Do you suspect some other trick? You have no need to fear. I have already sworn you a mighty oath.”
382 So she spoke, and I answered her: “Circe, what man who was right-minded could bear to taste food and drink before he had set his companions free and seen them with his own eyes? If you really mean it when you tell me to eat and drink, set them free, so that I may see my faithful companions with my eyes.”
388 So I spoke, and Circe went out through the hall with her wand in her hand, and opened the doors of the sty, and drove them out, looking like nine-year-old hogs. They stood facing her, and she went among them and smeared each one with another drug. The bristles fell away from their limbs, the bristles that the baneful drug which the lady Circe gave them had made grow before; and they became men again, younger than they had been, and far handsomer and taller to look at. They knew me, and each of them clung to my hands. A longing to weep came over all of us, and the house rang terribly all round; and even the goddess herself was moved to pity.
400 Then she came and stood close by me, bright among goddesses, and said: “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, resourceful Odysseus, go now to the swift ship and the seashore. First of all, haul the ship up onto the land and stow your goods and all the tackle in the caves. Then come back yourself and bring your faithful companions.”
406 So she spoke, and my proud heart was persuaded, and I went off to the swift ship and the seashore. There by the swift ship I found my faithful companions, lamenting piteously and shedding big tears. As when calves on a farm, around the cows of the herd coming back to the yard after they have had their fill of grazing, all frisk together to meet them, and the pens no longer hold them, but lowing constantly they run around their mothers: so these men, when they saw me with their eyes, came streaming round me in tears. And it seemed to their hearts as if they had reached their own country, the very city of rugged Ithaca, where they were bred and born. And lamenting they spoke to me, and their words had wings:
419 “Zeus-nurtured one, we are as glad at your return as if we had reached Ithaca, our native land. But come, tell us how the rest of our companions were lost.”
422 So they spoke, and I spoke to them with gentle words: “First of all, let us haul the ship up onto the land and stow our goods and all the tackle in the caves. Then all of you hurry and follow me, so that you may see our companions in the sacred house of Circe, eating and drinking, for they have plenty that will last.”
428 So I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words. Only Eurylochus tried to hold back all my companions, and he spoke to them, and his words had wings:
431 “Ah, poor wretches, where are we going? Why do you long for this misery, to go down to Circe’s hall? She will turn every one of us into pigs or wolves or lions, to guard her great house for her whether we like it or not, just as the Cyclops did, when our companions went into his fold and this reckless Odysseus went with them. It was through this man’s recklessness that they too were lost.”
438 So he spoke, and I pondered in my mind whether to draw the long-edged sword from beside my sturdy thigh, strike off his head, and send it rolling on the ground, close kinsman of mine by marriage though he was. But my companions, one after another, held me back with soothing words:
443 “Sprung from Zeus, let us leave this man, if you so order, to stay here beside the ship and guard it. But lead us to the sacred house of Circe.”
446 So they spoke and went up from the ship and the sea. Nor was Eurylochus left behind by the hollow ship; he followed, for he was afraid of my fierce rebuke.
449 While we were gone, Circe in her house had bathed the rest of my companions with care, and rubbed them with oil, and put thick cloaks and tunics about them; and we found them all feasting well in the halls. When they saw one another and recognized one another face to face, they wept and wailed, and the house rang all around. Then she came and stood close by me, bright among goddesses, and said:
457 “Do not rouse your loud lamenting any longer. I know myself all the pains you have suffered on the fish-filled sea, and all the harm that hostile men did you on land. But come, eat food and drink wine, until you get back the spirit in your breasts that you had when you first left your native land of rugged Ithaca. Now you are withered and spiritless, always remembering your hard wandering, and your hearts are never in good cheer, since you have suffered very much indeed.”
466 So she spoke, and our proud hearts were persuaded. There, day after day, for a full year, we sat feasting on meat beyond measure and sweet wine. But when a year had gone by, and the seasons had turned, as the months waned and the long days came round to their end, then my faithful companions called me aside and said:
472 “Strange man, it is time now to remember your native land, if it is your destiny to be saved and to reach your high-roofed house and your native land.”
475 So they spoke, and my proud heart was persuaded. So all day long until the sun went down we sat feasting on meat beyond measure and sweet wine. When the sun went down and darkness came on, they lay down to sleep throughout the shadowy halls. But I went up to the beautiful bed of Circe and clasped her knees in supplication, and the goddess heard my voice; and I spoke to her, and my words had wings:
483 “Circe, fulfill for me the promise you made, to send me home. My heart is eager now to go, and so are the hearts of my other companions, who wear away my dear heart with their lamenting around me whenever you are away.”
487 So I spoke, and she answered at once, bright among goddesses: “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, resourceful Odysseus, do not stay any longer in my house against your will. But first you must make another journey and come to the house of Hades and dread Persephone, to consult the spirit of Theban Tiresias, the blind prophet, whose mind is still steadfast. To him even in death Persephone has granted understanding, that he alone should have his wits; the others are shadows that flit about.”
496 So she spoke, and my heart was broken within me. I sat on the bed and wept, and my heart no longer wished to live and see the light of the sun. But when I had had my fill of weeping and writhing, then I answered her and said:
501 “Circe, who will guide us on this journey? No one has ever yet come to Hades in a black ship.”
503 So I spoke, and she answered at once, bright among goddesses: “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, resourceful Odysseus, do not trouble yourself about a guide for your ship. Set up the mast, spread the white sails, and sit; the breath of the North Wind will carry her. But when you have crossed the stream of Ocean in your ship, where there is a low shore and the groves of Persephone, tall poplars and willows that shed their fruit, beach your ship there by deep-eddying Ocean, and go yourself to the dank house of Hades. There Pyriphlegethon and Cocytus, which is a branch of the water of the Styx, flow into Acheron; and there is a rock where the two roaring rivers meet. There, hero, draw near, as I tell you, and dig a pit about a cubit long each way, and around it pour a drink offering to all the dead, first with milk and honey, then with sweet wine, and a third time with water; and sprinkle white barley meal over it. Then pray earnestly to the strengthless heads of the dead, and promise that when you come to Ithaca you will sacrifice in your halls a barren cow, the best you have, and heap the pyre with good things, and that to Tiresias alone, apart, you will offer a ram that is black all over, the finest among your flocks. And when with your prayers you have entreated the famous tribes of the dead, then sacrifice a ram and a black ewe, turning them toward Erebus,1 while you yourself turn away, facing the streams of the river. Then many spirits of the dead who have perished will come. Then urge your companions on and order them to flay the sheep that lie there slaughtered by the pitiless bronze and burn them, and pray to the gods, to mighty Hades and dread Persephone. And you yourself draw the sharp sword from beside your thigh and sit there, and do not let the strengthless heads of the dead come near the blood until you have questioned Tiresias. Then the prophet will soon come to you, leader of the people, and he will tell you your way and the measure of your journey, and your homecoming, how you will go over the fish-filled sea.”
541 So she spoke, and at once Dawn of the golden throne came. Circe dressed me in a cloak and a tunic for clothing, and the nymph herself put on a long silvery mantle, fine and graceful, and fastened a lovely golden belt around her waist and set a veil on her head. But I went through the house and roused my companions with gentle words, standing beside each man in turn:
548 “Do not lie sleeping and drowsing in sweet sleep any longer. Let us go; the lady Circe has told me the way.”
550 So I spoke, and their proud hearts were persuaded. But not even from there could I lead my companions away unharmed. There was one Elpenor, the youngest, not very valiant in war nor very sound in his wits. He had lain down apart from his companions on the roof of Circe’s sacred house, wanting the cool air, heavy with wine. When he heard the noise and bustle of his companions as they moved about, he sprang up suddenly and forgot to go back down by the long ladder, and fell headlong from the roof. His neck was broken away from the spine, and his spirit went down to Hades.
561 As my men were setting out, I spoke among them: “You think, I suppose, that you are going home to your dear native land; but Circe has marked out another journey for us, to the house of Hades and dread Persephone, to consult the spirit of Theban Tiresias.”
566 So I spoke, and their hearts were broken within them. They sat down where they were, lamenting and tearing their hair; but nothing came of their lamenting.
569 But while we were going to the swift ship and the seashore, grieving and shedding big tears, Circe had gone ahead and tied a ram and a black ewe beside the black ship, slipping past us easily. Who could see a god with his eyes, going this way or that, if the god did not wish it?
Notes
1. Erebus: the darkness under the earth, the realm of the dead.