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diff --git a/78211-0.txt b/78211-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d91aa68 --- /dev/null +++ b/78211-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4757 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78211 *** + + + + + CIRCE + + _A + Dramatic Fantasy_ + + _by_ + ISAAC FLAGG + + With a Frontispiece + by + Bernard Maybeck + + Copyright + 1915 + By Isaac Flagg + + Acting Rights Reserved + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +_To_ + +MABEL LAMMÉ HAYS + + + _Rarest of enchantment deem_ + _The beginning and the end:_ + _At life’s morning in the dream,_ + _At life’s evening in the friend._ + + + + + PRINTED AND BOUND BY + THE ROYCROFTERS [Illustration] + EAST AURORA, NEW YORK + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE ARGUMENT + + +Homer relates that Ulysses, king of Ithaca in Greece, sailing homeward +after the capture of Troy, drifted into unknown seas in consequence of +the wrath of Neptune; and after losing all but one of his twelve ships, +landed with the sole remaining vessel upon the island of the enchantress +Circe, who transformed one-half of his ship’s company, twenty-two in +number, into swine. He relates further that Ulysses, apprised by Mercury +of the fate of his companions, and furnished by the god with an antidote +for the spells of the sorceress, compelled her to restore his men to +their human shape. Thereupon, at the invitation of Circe the rest of the +crew join their mates at her palace, where all spend a year in festivity +and merry-making before proceeding on their way with precise instructions +from the Enchantress regarding the homeward voyage. + +The experiences of Ulysses and his followers, as described in the +Odyssey, immediately previous to their arrival at the Isle of Circe, +had been of an extraordinary and alarming character. A number of men +had been devoured by Polyphemus the Cyclops in his cave, where he had +entrapped a party, the survivors escaping by riding out, clasped under +the bellies of his sheep, after they had made the monster drunk and +blinded his one eye with a fiery stake. Later, they came to the domain of +Æolus, king of the winds, who presented Ulysses with a number of bags +holding the adverse winds in confinement. But during the sleep of their +commander, when already near their native shore, some of the men through +curiosity untying the bags, the winds broke loose and swept them back to +Æolus, who drove them all forth with contempt. They next encountered the +Læstrygones, a race of man-eating giants. Being shown the way to the town +by a daughter of the giant king, some men were seized and devoured on the +spot; while from an attack made upon the ships collected in the harbor +only one vessel succeeded in escaping. + +No mention is made of Penelope, the wife of Ulysses, at any point in +the story of Circe; but we read that Ulysses lingered in the enchanted +island, until his men were finally compelled, seizing an opportunity when +Circe was away, to remonstrate with their chief and rouse him to thoughts +of a return to his home. + +Homer says that the attendants of the Enchantress in her palace were +nymphs, such as derive their being from the fountains, the groves, and +the rivers flowing to the sea. + +The First Act of the play brings Ulysses and his companions into Circe’s +palace; the Second Act takes them out of it. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +CIRCE + +_A Dramatic Fantasy_ + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +PERSONS REPRESENTED + + + CIRCE, the Enchantress + PHILINNA } + THERMIA } Nymphs, companions and attendants to Circe + MYRTO } + THRATTIS, the lute-girl + GRAEA, the dumb swine-maiden + Other nymphs attending Circe + MIKKOS, an ape + ULYSSES, a Commander + EURYLOCHUS, his mate + THERON, the ship’s cook + ELPENOR, a feeble-minded youth, the cook’s assistant + GLAUCUS } + PHORBAS } + PHILEMON } Sailors + XENIAS } + Other members of Ulysses’ ship’s-company + MERCURY, Messenger of the Immortals and Luck-bringer to men + +THE PLACE: _A small woody island, inhabited only by the Enchantress and +her Nymphs, who dwell in a palace at the centre and summit of the isle._ + + + + +[Illustration: CIRCE] + + + + +[Illustration: ACT ONE] + +[Illustration: THE FIRST ACT] + + +I + +A preliminary scene of mute action. The front of CIRCE’S palace at the +hour just after sunset. The edifice is of variously tinted stone, a +combination of several architectural masses. The windows of the building +are tall and very narrow, overshadowed with creeping plants. Its main +entrance, at the Left of the Centre, is from a massive porch with +gargoyles of serpents at the corners of its roof. The porch is reached +by a flight of wide, low steps; the doorway itself, low and wide, deeply +receding and darkened by the ample foliage of overhanging vines. The +palace faces eastward upon a smooth open court-yard enclosed by a wall +of stone with spacious gateway at the Right. The entrance to the court +at the Left corner of the building is inconspicuous. At the main gateway +there is artificial representation of wolves and leopards as if tame +and serving as watchdogs. Behind the court-yard wall rise large trees +throwing deep shadows in the twilight. A fountain, dragon-shaped, with +circular basin, is centrally placed in the court, that is just at the +Right of the porch steps. + +As the curtain rises, a humming sound as of a swiftly turned +spinning-wheel is heard behind the scenes; and presently the music of +CIRCE’S song (the words of which are sung in a later Scene) is played +upon flute and violin. The fountain is playing, and its spray, rising +and falling intermittently, gleams with a golden light, occasionally +changing to a faint blue, and then becoming golden again. Some of the +serpentine gargoyles are seen to sway and writhe like living snakes. A +large _ape_ emerges from a small window above the porch, stands upon its +roof at first erect like a man, then poses upon all fours at the edge, +trying to look underneath into the doorway, and remains in this position. +A glimpse also is caught of the _Swine-maiden_, a tall, gaunt, witch-like +figure robed in gray, trailing behind her a very long cowhide whip. +Appearing suddenly from some place of concealment she passes furtively +and silently, with long strides, across the Left corner and disappears +behind the palace. + + +II + +Interior. The banquet-hall of CIRCE’S palace. A long, low apartment, +clearly but not brilliantly illuminated by torch-wood burning upon +cressets in the rear, Right and Left. The walls and ceiling of the room +are of neutral tint, light shades, but nowhere white; the decorations, of +simple Grecian type. Two wide entrances at the rear afford glimpses of a +back corridor dimly lighted; between these doors a large spinning-wheel +of fantastic pattern stands near the wall. On the Right a curtained +opening leads to the boudoir of CIRCE; and another door is situated +further back on this side. On the Left, directly opposite the boudoir, is +an entrance from an alcove or passage-way communicating with the porch; +in front of it a dais or platform, raised one step higher than the floor +of the apartment. Near another door far back on the Left stands a large +sideboard or buffet showing the usual garniture. Between the boudoir and +the dais, thus centrally placed but a little forward, are two large, +low tables nearly square, standing end to end, but far enough apart to +allow free passage between them, and showing clearly the spinning-wheel +behind. Three tall armchairs or thrones stand, one at the end of the +table on the Left, in front of the dais; another at the opposite end of +the other table, by the entrance of the boudoir; the third at the left +hand of the second throne, behind the table. There are numerous other +small Greek chairs without backs. Each table is spread with a light brown +cloth. Upon the table at the Right are several pieces of plate and a low +spreading vase of flowers near its centre; a flagon and goblets upon the +other table. As the curtain rises the music ceases, but the humming of +the wheel is continued. CIRCE is seen seated upon the throne at the head +of the table by her boudoir. Her slender golden wand is carelessly thrown +upon the table before her. Her black robe she has pushed away from her +shoulders over the back of her chair; but she wears her coronal of pearls +confining massy black hair, with long, light, pearly veil depending from +the diadem behind. Her tunic is of canary-colored silk; she wears crimson +sandals, and a golden serpent bracelet encircles her left wrist. + +PHILINNA, a blonde, of beauty comparable to that of CIRCE herself, but of +the opposite type, in dress and in all other respects forming a contrast +to the Enchantress, stands behind the throne at her mistress’ left hand. + +The place of THERMIA, a nymph of elegant figure and winsome expression, +is behind the table on the Left, near the throne at its head by the dais. + +MYRTO, who has dark hair like CIRCE, but is of small stature and +not marked by especial beauty, sits facing the Enchantress by the +spinning-wheel, which, as she swiftly turns it, gives forth the melodious +hum that fills the air when the curtain rises. + +The predominant color of PHILINNA’S dress is mauve; of THERMIA’S, azure; +of MYRTO’S, dark green. Other nymphs are drest in light gauzy material, +never pure white. All wear Grecian costume. + +_As CIRCE turns toward her with a slight gesture, MYRTO stops the wheel._ + +CIRCE + + Hush, Myrto; prithee stay + Thy busy wheel awhile; I fain would listen + To the mere silence—if that be silence, when + Naught save the light-wing’d evening zephyr breathes + His soft sea-voices through the piny boughs + And the broad vine-leaf tinkles at the porch. + No footfalls patter now; our thirsty questioners, + After the sunset shadow falls, come not. + Truly ’twere vain, save by the day’s bright beam, + To seek my mansion on this bowery summit + Through tangled briery paths and copse-wood dim— + For the first time. + +PHILINNA + + Thou knowest well, dear lady, + No second coming, save in four-footed guise, + Thy hand vouchsafes them. + +CIRCE + + Ay, not twice the cup + For the same drinker need we pour.—And, Myrto, + Remembered’st thou to cull the herbs I named, + Wolf’s-bane and hemlock and the rest? + +MYRTO + + Yes, lady. + +CIRCE + + And stored and sorted all? + +MYRTO + + By the full moon + Each kind I pluck’d; then, crosswise laid, I dried them + On the black adder-stone what hour no cloud + The noonday welkin streak’d. + +CIRCE + + ’Tis well. Right soon + I shall bruise more and brew their potions. + [_After a brief pause_] Ah! + Myrto; hast thou aught seen this season yet + Of _moly_ plant? + +MYRTO + + No sprig, since we dug forth + Those three and to their root put fire. + +PHILINNA + + O Circe, + What mortal can know moly? or, if found, + Might guess that straightening salutary force + Which its pale blossom suckles? + +CIRCE + + Little indeed + Know they or seem to reck, who find my door, + By the four winds or vague desire impell’d. + Not of the herbs alone, wherewith I work + Transforming magic, and of their antidotes + Is saving knowledge to human sense denied; + But the mere man in equal measure lacks + Perception of all that inner occult domain + Which on my mystic vision rises clear + And blends harmonious with material scenes. + Therefore, what mortals know I know more surely, + Crowning their wisdom with profounder lore. + How oft do they who come, while at this board + They swill and gloat, ere yet the damning cup + I proffer, boast large deeds and prate of what + They call _experience_—in the same breath imploring + Guidance, which I with gracious hand might lend, + Seem’d they but worthy. [_PHILINNA nods assent._] + +THERMIA + + Stands some one, Circe, + At the porch door. + +CIRCE + + Throw open; no mortal visitor + Descends so deftly on us. + +[_The door at the Left is opened by THERMIA, showing a golden-gleaming +light in the passage-way behind it. Immediately MERCURY enters, standing +as he first speaks upon the dais. His winged serpent-twined wand is +brilliant with inlaid mother-of-pearl. Dewdrops glisten upon the wings +of his cap and sandals. The mutual demeanor of MERCURY and CIRCE is +friendly, but not familiar. Neither makes show of deference toward the +other. MERCURY does not remove his cap. He takes no notice whatever of +the nymphs._] + +MERCURY + + All-potent Circe, + Hail! + +CIRCE + + Hail to thee, sir messenger! Be welcome; + Tarry and taste our cheer. + +[_MERCURY seats himself upon the throne at the head of the table near +which he stands. THERMIA takes his wand and lays it upon the table._] + +CIRCE + + The nectar, Thermia. + +[_THERMIA serves him from the sideboard and remains standing in +attendance._] + + Bring’st from the Olympian conclave, Mercury, + Tidings to us? + +MERCURY + + Nay, nay; I do but pause + On my mid-errand’s flight a restful moment + At thy fair island-dome. Weary sometime + Falls even the airy stride of winged feet, + When at a stern omnipotent behest + They spurn the mountain’s serried brow, plunge down, + Skimming innumerable waves, and ride + From land to land the brindled ocean’s back. + But, Mistress Circe, this enchanted isle, + Topp’d by thy mansion, doth like a stepping-stone + Betwixt the shores of dawn and vesper lie, + At the convergent centre of all streams. + What roving bark shall miss it? + +CIRCE + + Sooner or later + ’Tis true each wanderer this way passes; nor, + Our gate once spied and hospitable song + Heard trilling, turns he back. + +MERCURY + + I am reminded, + Whereof I once made mention, again to speak. + Fail not to pour thy strongest draught, fair Circe, + When sage _Ulysses_ heeds the languorous strain. + +CIRCE + + So said’st thou; I recall it. And some potions + Do stronger flow an hundred-fold than others. + +MERCURY + + Even so one human counsel another o’er-tops + By infinite measure.—But ’tis time to speed + And set a finish on this world-spanning errand. + +[_THERMIA hands MERCURY his wand as he rises from the throne and steps +upon the dais._] + + Now for the star-strewn roadways of the sky, + By the dun cloud-edge, where fork’d lightnings fly. + Farewell! + +CIRCE + + Farewell, sir messenger! [_Exit MERCURY._] + +PHILINNA + + [_After a pause_] Dear lady Circe, + Wherefore for us at eve dost thou ne’er lift + Thy voice in sweetest song, like that whose spell + Binds the doom’d callers at the moaning porch? + So might we taste the charm and spare the bane. + +CIRCE + + O sit, Philinna, and mark you! + +[_PHILINNA seats herself in the throne near CIRCE. At the same time +THERMIA takes her seat upon one of the chairs at the other table, resting +her left arm on the table._] + +CIRCE + + ’Tis not at will those tuneful notes upwelling + Burst from this bosom’s prison, when once the joy + Of fierce enslaving mastery sets them free. + I see not his approach who draweth nigh, + Like the limed bird in cruel toils to stick, + And whom the poison’d chalice straight transforms + To brutal shape:—I do not see them come; + But by a sudden thrill inspired to sing, + With a strange consciousness of quicken’d power, + Then _know_ I, and need not look.—Hath e’er one song + Fail’d of response, Philinna? + +THERMIA + + Not one; O, never! + +MYRTO + + How could it otherwise befall? + +CIRCE + + There be + Others in whom by native hap are planted + Some powers of vulgar sorcery: whom it profits + On magic wheel to lash the skewer’d wryneck; + Who their unlovely droning measures vaunt + To burst the clammy serpent in the mead, + Or from her seat pull down the horned moon. + But to their sordid craft my arts compare + As sunbeams to a sputtering pitchy torch. + When _we_ the human prowler quell and tame, + We work illumination! + +PHILINNA + + Yet sometimes + They shine with princely mien. Even as Mercury + In face and stature were those two comely youths + Thou once didst change to wolves. + +CIRCE + + ’Twas their true shape! + The godlike figure hath to mankind been lent, + Which they abuse to cloak an inner core + Of bestial motive. Therefore it is to scatter + Light over darkness, when my cunning drugs + Make the shell match the kernel. No longer then, + Once the true emblem on his visage stamp’d, + Doth the pretender with mock daring flourish: + Unmask’d, he slinks and cowers.—The most, indeed, + Are of mere swinish habit; and for them + The pointed snout suffices and rough hide. + But some—[_With mock seriousness_] Thou dream’st not, sweet Philinna, + How cruelly those same youths, but for my spell, + Had rent us both! + +MYRTO + + [_Gravely_] Ay, true; didst thou not mark, + Philinna, what hungry looks they bent upon + The lady Circe, even while they drank? ’Twas not + The fragrant wine-cup drew them, but o’er its rim + Her neck they scann’d and watch’d the hand and arm + That reach’d the potion. So had they gazed on thee, + If Circe sat not by. + +PHILINNA + + Ah, Myrto; how + Could I the right herb choose and guide the beaker? + Or wield the magic wand! + +THERMIA + + [_Holding up her hands_] O simple, simple! + +CIRCE + + [_Warmly_] Thy beauty and my love for thee, Philinna, + Are of a piece; both do transcend the limit + Of usual quality. For, without thee, I + Should seem to hover in a stale vacant world; + Whilst thou, arm’d with no wand or secret drug, + Unconscious and unskill’d, canst oft divert + The most admiring, ardent, rapt regards + Away from the famed Circe—deem’d forsooth + To win by her sheer woman’s charm not less + Than by shrewd arts. It is perchance the reason + Why thou art dear, because no studied guile + Can in thy breast find lodgement. Oft we crave + That in a friend which our own temper lacks; + And the two mingle to a more perfect being + Than either by itself. + +[_Laying her left hand upon PHILINNA’S right arm_] + + ’Tis pure simplicity + Framed as a smiling goddess at my elbow. + +MYRTO + + [_Gravely_] Dear lady Circe, may the gods preserve her, + Shouldst thou in turn e’er fail at her right hand + To sit with guardian thoughts. + +THERMIA + + Nay, Myrto! + Stand we not all in like need of that shelter + And sweet assurement which no other hand + Than Circe’s can dispense? ’Tis the good spell + Her bright superior spirit weaves round us, lends + Fragrance and bloom to our sequester’d lives. + What, but for that enrichment, would import + Fair skies and shady bowers?—But these mock dangers + Are but the flounce and garnish of our pastime. + Your mighty men I find more vain than valiant. + Didst thou fear Mikkos, Myrto, in his former, + Native habiliment? + +MYRTO + + [_Laughing_] O Thermia, he was terrible! + +THERMIA + + And that sleek scrivener, who serves now as one + Of our gate leopards—was it a peril when he, + Before his lips touch’d the transforming potion, + Offer’d me marriage? + +PHILINNA + + But what _is_ marriage, Thermia? + +THERMIA + + It is as if a clever craftsman built + A cage round Circe and yourself, then lock’d + Its door upon you both and flung the key + Under the fountain. + +PHILINNA + +[_Springing from her chair and drawing back behind it_] + + Holy Diana! + I should break out and fly like Circe’s peacock + Into the beech-tree by the spring. + +CIRCE + + [_Laughing_] O children, children! + How will ye all most learnedly discourse, + Where ye know least? There lurks indeed small peril + To your fair persons, but the danger hits + Your unsophisticated silly souls. + Some men there be, whose fervid, flattering words + Would fluster and bedazzle you, till all + This tranquil sweet companionship should vanish, + As the light puffy thistle-down dispell’d, + Leaving a weary lone unrest behind it. + It is my swift preventing magic catches + And tangles their approach. We are too quick + For them; nor shall they soon outspeed us.—Yet + My brother, the great magician, told me once, + That if a drug e’er fail’d me and work’d not + For any cause its proper due effects, + Then we stood liable to some counter-spell + Of similar assignment. And he cited + My cousin Medea’s strange unhappy story. + [_To PHILINNA, playfully_] So; + When the poor Circe faints, Philinna, thou + Wouldst fly off and desert her? + +PHILINNA + + O no! not + Without the cage. + +CIRCE + + [_Laughing_] No; I am sure + Whate’er befalls, Philinna will be faithful. + +THERMIA + + [_Seriously_] She will indeed, my lady! + +CIRCE + + Of faith and love there is no dearth among us, + Though scant occasion offer which might put + A true friend’s temper to the test. For here + The spirit of petty jangling sits aloof + And common pastime smooths the tripping hours. + Its spice is in the hazard. It were indeed + A dull domain on Circe’s isle, flow’d not + The petulant human throng up to our door. + For fail’d we to suppress them, we ourselves + Might share that wearisome slow life which men + Owe to their fleeting, vain, unsteady loves. + O verily they should thank us! + +[_CIRCE leans back in her chair, playing with the wand that lies on the +table. Then straightening up and looking across the room she claps her +hands twice. Directly the lute-girl THRATTIS enters at the Left corner. +She stands leaning against the sideboard and strikes chords upon her +instrument as prelude._] + +MYRTO + + O Circe, may Mikkos dance to-night? + +CIRCE + + Yes, child.—Poor Mikkos! His dancing days were over + When first he sought us and became our patient. + Now they begin anew. + +[_She signs to THRATTIS, who begins a dancing tune. Other music is heard +in accord with the lute. PHILINNA and THERMIA dance, not as partners, +but singly, with Grecian or Turkish movement, passing round alternately +between the tables and in front and behind them. CIRCE leans back and +looks on with evident pleasure, beating time informally with her wand. +Immediately when the dancing begins, MYRTO runs out at the Right centre +for_ Mikkos; _but at the same time_ Mikkos _darts in at the Left centre, +drops into MYRTO’S seat, and begins to turn her wheel. The ape wears a +handsome collar with about four feet of light brass chain hanging from +it. MYRTO follows laughing, seizes the chain, and pulling_ Mikkos _to his +feet the girl and the ape dance, confining themselves to the back part +of the room. MYRTO’S dancing is similar to that of the other two nymphs, +except that she does not display the same arm movements_. Mikkos _dances +only as an ordinary trained simian might succeed in doing. Next, GRAEA +the swine-maiden enters at the Right centre and joins in the performance. +Her dancing, which she confines to the corner of the room opposite +THRATTIS, consists in snaky, gyratory movements, stooping and with long +steps trailing her great whip slowly in circles upon the floor.—Presently +CIRCE, drawing her black robe over her shoulders, still holding the wand, +rises from her throne. The music ceases. THRATTIS_, Mikkos, _and GRAEA +disappear, and the three nymphs come to a standstill at about their usual +places in the room._] + +CIRCE + +[_To her nymphs_] + + Thus merry our lives, through the whole endless round + Of blithe days and the placid restful nights + That top their radiance. How ye are blest, forsooth + Ye cannot know, because that bliss transcends + All ken and inquisition. It is some part + Of the vast natural world instill’d and moulded + In your fair forms divine, whereto small fleck + Of human taint hath fallen; but an ethereal + Kinship of cloud and fountain and wild wood + Thrills the translucent ichor in your veins. + O sweet immortal sisterhood! + +THERMIA + + A mighty willow guards the meadow’s brink, + Where daisies shine and finches pause to drink: + Each year its lissome branches droop anew, + And on the straightest, smoothest shoot I grew. + +MYRTO + + Deep in the forest shade black water ran: + Beneath its tide my babyhood began; + And while for strength these tiny knees did lack, + A bullfrog bore me on his bright green back. + +PHILINNA + + Down a sheer sunny cliff wild waters whirl + In tinted gleams of amethyst and pearl: + And where that dangling riband dots the sky, + From one soft gauzy filament sprang I. + +[_The curtains of CIRCE’S bower are drawn away, revealing some part of +its interior and a nymph standing on either side. CIRCE moves slowly +backward to the bower entrance; and her three nymphs move backward toward +the several exits._] + +CIRCE + + [_To the audience_] There is a sleep that hath no need of dreams: + When of each waking hour the passage seems + A bird-flight under lovelier skies than those + Which dreamland fancy to the slumberer shows. + +[_The music of CIRCE’S song is again heard, and the drop-curtain falls +while all are just disappearing. PHILINNA goes out at Right 2; THERMIA at +Left 2; MYRTO at Left centre._] + + +III + +A camp by the seashore just before sunrise. The ground rises at the back +and Right, rough with shrubbery and rocks. A galley of antique build has +been drawn upon the sand crosswise at the Left and there are glimpses of +the sea on this side. The mast has been unstepped and a few long oars +lean against the side of the vessel. There are other signs of a recent +disembarcation. Articles of nautical and warlike use lie on the ground +or hang upon bushes and rocks; wine-jars, cups, plates, etc. have been +deposited. The forms of a numerous company of men are seen sleeping on +the ground, wrapped in their blankets, here and there near the ship.—In +the foreground at the Right centre a fire of small sticks is beginning +to burn under tripod and kettle. THERON, the cook, is seen seated on the +ground near the fire, washing strips of meat for roasting. From the low +branch of a tree near him hangs the well stripped carcass of a deer, the +hide and the head bearing large antlers in full view near by. ELPENOR, +the cook’s helper, is at work trying to make the fire burn. + +THERON + + Scratch together another stick or two of wood, youngster. + +[_Enter GLAUCUS at Right with a jar of water which he sets down near +THERON._] + + That will do for water, Glauc. Take a hand now and help the lad + blow the fire a bit. + +GLAUCUS + + So I will, though I be a trifle blown myself, tramping up and + down to that spring. + +THERON + + That’s where the commander pinked the deer yesterday, eh? + +GLAUCUS + + Ay, ay; the old man hasn’t forgotten how to let slip an arrow + since we became water-dogs, for certain. + +THERON + + ’Twas a crack piece of venison he fetched in and no mistake! + There’s a strip or two left for breakfast; but I reckon we’ll + have to make a soup of the hide for dinner—that is if other + game doesn’t turn up. [_He lays pieces of meat spitted over the + coals._] + +GLAUCUS + + The soup’ll do them. They took solid meat enough aboard + yesterday to last for a week’s voyage. + +ELPENOR + + When I saw them eating, it made me think of father feeding the + hogs up in Cephallenia. + +GLAUCUS + + They’re grunting yet. Just hear the beggars snore! And we + turned in before sunset too. + +THERON + + The Pramnian’s responsible for that: we tapped four jars. It’s + the same as keeled over that beastly hulk of a Cyclops. + +ELPENOR + + The commander took a mighty round swig himself; I saw him. + +GLAUCUS + + Trust him for keeping his head level. Besides, he can carry + more of the rosy than any three of us. + +THERON + + Pass over those barley spats, boy—ah! you’ve got them too wet, + you monkey.—Say, Glauc, how would you like to see such a thing + as a woman again, eh? [_THERON grins and nudges GLAUCUS’ knee + with his elbow._] + +GLAUCUS + + Well, you’re right; it is a long time since. + +ELPENOR + + Wasn’t that a woman you saw at the last landing-place?—there + where they smashed all the ships we had but this one. + +THERON + + What!—the giant’s daughter? Bless you, boy, that was a waddling + mountain, not a woman! + +GLAUCUS + + You might throw your arms round her waist twice, Elpy, and + never touch the tips of your fingers. + +THERON + + By the powers, she _was_ a hogshead to tackle; ha, ha! + +GLAUCUS + + If there be female inhabitants of this prickly country, it’s to + be hoped they’re not built after that pattern. But everything + here wears horns, so far. [_He taps the antlers of the stag._] + +THERON + + Well, we’re nigh about ready. Set those plates round in just + a little order. Call ’em up, Elp! Take my knife here and + hammer on that shield hanging by the tree. The sun’ll be on us + shortly. One more jar of water, Glaucus. [_Exit GLAUCUS._] + +ELPENOR + + [_Pounding on the metallic shield_] Ding, dong! Cling, clang! + Breakfast! Get up! Get up! Breakfast! Ding, dong! Cling, clang! + +[_The men rise one after another from their beds on the ground and adjust +their garments, which look stained and weather-worn. GLAUCUS re-enters +and pours water into several basins for the men to wash their hands. They +gradually find seats on the ground near the fire and begin to eat, the +cook and his assistant serving them informally. The conversation begins +while they are dressing and getting ready, before they sit._] + +PHORBAS + + [_Looking around him suspiciously_] I wonder on which side the + sun rises in this blessed country. + +PHILEMON + + On the east side, maybe; leastwise it ought to come up opposite + to where it went down yesterday. + +PHORBAS + + Well, who remembers where that was? Split me if I do! + +GLAUCUS + + Avast there! the sun’ll peep over in a jiffy—by the spring + yonder. [_He turns his thumb backward to the Right._] + +PHORBAS + + All the same we don’t any of us know where we are. + +THERON + + We’re supposed to be at the breakfast table now, lads. Fall to + if you’ve got any appetite left over from yesterday! + +XENIAS + + We’ve got more appetite left over than you have chops, cook. + +THERON + + Ay, every chop’s a sparerib this morning—except a few choice + cuts here for the commander and the mate. They’re done now. + +[_He takes the meat from the fire into a platter._] + + Here, young man; take ’em over to him round the other side of + the ship. + +ELPENOR + + [_As he goes out_] We’re going to have soup for dinner. [_He + disappears behind the vessel._] + +PHILEMON + + Look here, Theron; did you put the charcoal in these barley + cakes before baking or after? + +GLAUCUS + + Pooh, pooh! Never mind the grit, man; it’s an aid to digestion. + We’re lucky enough to have groats aboard, anyway. + +PHORBAS + + We’re lucky to be alive! By Apollo, how I shiver when I think + of that Æolian duffer and the cursed wind-bags he palmed off on + us! + +XENIAS + + ’Twas worse than a hurricane on the wrong quarter when _they_ + blew up—took us straight back to the old boy himself. + +PHILEMON + + He _was_ a windy humbug! You’d have thought, to hear him talk, + we’d be back home in Ithaca inside of twenty-four hours. + +PHORBAS + + And now we’re only _here_! Another cannibal island, I’ll bet my + pile! Ye gods! I wouldn’t go up ten rods from the shore for a + gold mine. + +THERON + + Well, the commander took a little walk yesterday and nobody ate + _him_ up. He didn’t make much of a report as to what he saw; + but I’ve a notion he’ll say something about it to-day. + +GLAUCUS + + Sh—here he comes now! Mind your taps, men! + +[_Enter ULYSSES and EURYLOCHUS at the Left from behind the ship. The +men finishing their meal salute without rising and arrange themselves +comfortably and informally on the ground in a sort of circle looking +toward ULYSSES in the centre. ELPENOR re-enters behind the two and sits +down with the others. EURYLOCHUS also seats himself upon the ground at +the right hand of ULYSSES. In appearance the mate is distinguished from +the crew mainly by wearing fresher and less weather-beaten garments. +ULYSSES wears a helmet and carries his sword and baldric in his hand. He +throws the weapon upon the ground, and as he begins to speak takes off +his helmet, holding it swinging by its strap in his left hand while he +stands and speaks. The rays of the rising sun now strike over the bank +behind him._] + +ULYSSES + + Good morrow, men! How sped the night? + +SEVERAL VOICES + + O, hearty, hearty! + +EURYLOCHUS + + They had a bout to sleep on, you remember, sir. + +ULYSSES + + That was high festival—too rare a hap! + ’Twas sipping of the rest ye needed sore; + But now there’s toil in prospect. + +PHILEMON + + We thought you might tell us, sir, what the prospect showed + when you stepped out yesterday and got the deer. + +PHORBAS + + We’re hoping to sail away from here directly. + +ULYSSES + + Of sail and oar appears an end not yet, + Brave comrades,—ye sad fortune-favor’d few, + Poor relic of that once gallant troop which sat + High on three-hundred thwarts; when each proud keel, + Cleaving a homeward furrow, swept gaily past + Familiar beacons; and from known crag and scaur + Triumphal friendly greetings echoed loud, + That drop like honey in victorious ears. + Not long their cadence linger’d; but ye know + What flouts of whirlwind and black sulphurous cloud, + Wreck-witness’d warrants of Neptunian ire, + Whelm’d some with death and the scant remnant usher’d + Into these strange, uncanny, nameless seas. + And now from wave to wave your weary arms + Drive the lone pinnace, this frail shell of hope, + With mingled dread and homesick yearning freighted. + +[_As ULYSSES pauses, some of the men, all of whom are looking to him +intently, shake their heads or rock themselves to and fro, and faint +groans are heard._] + + But cheer, brave shipmates; cheer! + Not boundless stretch these watery wastes, but still + Shines somewhere a vine-clad slope and pebbly cove, + The fair home-harbor pictured in your dreams. + +[_The men give utterance to loud sighs and groans._] + + Somewhere it sparkles yet; but whether a ray + Of yonder climbing sun illumed its borders + Ere he warm’d us, or by the western rim + Of darkling eve our cherish’d haven lies, + We know not. In ourselves, thus mazed and wilder’d + By circular driftings and strange gruesome sights, + There springs no source of judgment, whence to draw + Some pilotage and index of true course. + Yet on these wild inhospitable shores + Beings we have encounter’d—and not all + Of baleful or ungracious mood—who hold + Rare store of guiding knowledge.—Should we not + Press with glad feet even now our native soil, + If ye, unhappy men, had spared to loose + The contrary winds great Æolus did tie down + To assure our safety? + +[_The men manifest great perturbation; some gesticulating and shaking +their heads; others rising to their knees and striking themselves. +Mutterings and faint outcries escape them._] + +EURYLOCHUS + + [_Timidly; rising to his feet_] + You failed to tell them, sir, what was in the bags. + +ULYSSES + + [_Sternly_] I fail’d first to remember + What slender stock of prudence or just restraint + Your wits preserve. So, while I slept, ye wrought + Mischief beyond repair. It was thy watch, + Eurylochus; dost recall it? + +EURYLOCHUS + + Yes, sir, it was my company on duty then. + +ULYSSES + + Draw off thy men; let them assemble apart. + +[_At a sign from EURYLOCHUS men to the number of one-half the crew arise +and group themselves around him on the Right. The rest remain seated +nearer ULYSSES. EURYLOCHUS’ company includes GLAUCUS, THERON, ELPENOR, +and PHORBAS._] + +ULYSSES + + [_To all as before_] I repeat, then, + There dwell in these weird regions spirits—some few, + Mighty yet not malevolent, and endued + With sapient skill and far discernment. Nor + Save by experience of them may we hope + To win the instructions craved. Here yesterday + From the bare peak whereto I clomb, the view + Of a round isle lay open; and at the point + Where these upwinding brambly folds converge + I saw faint-coiling smoke-wreaths, the sure sign + Of dwellers. + +[_All of the men are visibly disturbed and give increased and anxious +attention._] + + It behooves us now to prove + Their case and disposition. But whether it suits + Rather that I conduct my party thither + For the grave query, or Eurylochus his, + Allotment shall decide. + +[_Sensation among his hearers_] + + Ofttimes the hand + Of Fortune guides a venturous essay fitter + Than human arbitration. Mark, then, Eurylochus, + My lot and thine. + +[_EURYLOCHUS with assistance from others finds upon the beach two small +flat stones. These he scratches with his dagger, marking one with a V, +the other with an E._] + + Shake now the sherds, good Glaucus. + +[_As he speaks ULYSSES passes the helmet which he has hitherto held in +his left hand to GLAUCUS. The two lots are thrown into the helmet; and +GLAUCUS, standing in an open space and watched with intense expectation +by all present, shakes it violently with a circular movement until one +of the lots flies out and falls to the ground. The men strain their eyes +toward the stone as it is picked up by GLAUCUS._] + +ULYSSES + + Well, what decision? + +GLAUCUS + + [_Holding up the stone_] It’s Eurylochus, sir, his mark. + +[_The announcement produces various effects upon the men. The party of +ULYSSES, seated upon the ground, strive not to show too plainly their +sense of relief; while the standing company of EURYLOCHUS are more openly +affected. PHORBAS in particular is in a highly nervous state, glancing +now toward the hill, now toward the water. A few other timid ones in the +same party demean themselves similarly._] + +ULYSSES + + [_To EURYLOCHUS_] Enough; make ready directly, and proceed with + reasonable haste. + +[_The mate’s company move apart and make preparations, helped to some +extent by the others. There is lively motion in both groups. They gather +up things needful for an expedition, spears, staves, water-flasks, etc. +THERON, a portly figure, does not change his cook’s garb, but buckles on +a very broad belt with hanging straps, and whets his butcher’s cleaver +with a stone. Shortly they are ready to start._] + +EURYLOCHUS + + My mission is, sir——? + +ULYSSES + + To announce, if those thou haply find’st wear not + Sinister aspect, our good-will and greeting; + And the right winds for homeward voyage inquire. + +EURYLOCHUS + + Very well, sir.—Fall in, lads! + +[_EURYLOCHUS’ followers draw closer to their leader, apart from the +others. All are serious. Individuals take leave of one another here and +there with hand-shaking, etc._] + +ULYSSES + + The sign show’d near the summit. Your ascent, + Thorny perchance and steep, will prove not long; + The questioning, easy. + +XENIAS + + [_Seriously_] Have an eye to Theron, Glaucus; let him not be + too forward with that meat-knife of his! + +ELPENOR + + [_Taking hold of a strap at THERON’S belt_] I shall hold him + back. + +ULYSSES + + Full oft a forward mood and hardy daring + Is of prime merit; circumstance will teach + How far to temper zeal with slow discretion. + Farewell! + +EURYLOCHUS + + Farewell, sir!—Forward, men! + +SEVERAL VOICES ON BOTH SIDES + + Farewell! adieu! luck, luck! + +[_The mate’s company go out at the Right and upward. EURYLOCHUS himself +is abreast of the foremost on their left. The vanguard consists of +GLAUCUS, THERON (cleaver in hand), and ELPENOR (a fragile, attenuated +figure) behind the cook, holding at his belt. PHORBAS and other timid +ones bring up the rear. The drop-curtain falls as they move off while the +rest watch them and wave their hands to them._] + + +IV + +The same as Scene I. The front of CIRCE’S palace. No music or other sound +is heard when the curtain rises. The fountain plays as before.—Enter at +the Right by the main gateway EURYLOCHUS and his party, the men grouped +similarly as at the close of the last scene, but in the reverse order. +In advance are PHORBAS and the other timid ones; they enter hurriedly, +casting glances of alarm behind them. The rest of the party immediately +follow; EURYLOCHUS, GLAUCUS, and THERON last. ELPENOR is in front of +THERON, who pushes him forward. The whole company quickly come to a +standstill in a single close group with considerable space between them +and the steps of the porch. They scan the building and its environs with +looks of wonder, especially fascinated by the fountain with its changing +hues.—EURYLOCHUS stands apart from the rest, his demeanor indicating +hesitation and perplexity. While the others are talking he walks slowly +to and fro, occasionally pausing and scanning suspiciously the various +features of the scene. + +THERON + + It’s a rum go so far! eh, Glaucus? + +GLAUCUS + + [_Shrugging his shoulders_] Rum’s the word! An outpost of tame + tigers! It beats anything we’ve walked into yet. Cyclops’ cave + wasn’t a circumstance. + +THERON + + I had a notion to crack the skull of that overgrown wolf-cub + when he landed his dirty paws on my shoulders. But he looked + sort o’ gentle like, and besides I thought the old chap who + owns the menagerie might take a miff—whoever _he_ is. + +GLAUCUS + + It’s some retired show-man or prize-fighter, I reckon. + +THERON + + He’s got a blue devil penned up in his fountain, sure! Just + look at that, old man; hock first, and blue vitriol at the tail + end of it! There’s bitters for you with a vengeance!—Blast + me, but I’m thirsty as an oyster, whacking a way up through + that pesky brush-wood! If there’s a chance to wet our whistles + inside the house it’ll be worth the dog-show twice over. + +PHORBAS + + I tell you it’ll pay to be cautious about the inside. Ugh! it + did make my flesh creep, crossing that cordon of wild-cats! + There’s no knowing what we’ll put our foot on if we go farther. + +ELPENOR + + I put my foot on a snake. + +GLAUCUS + + They put an architect to work here that _saw_ snakes, anyhow. + Take a look at those water-spouts, boys! [_Pointing to the + gargoyles_] + +EURYLOCHUS + + [_Approaching the group_] Well, men; what’s the next step? The + commander said go ahead if the people weren’t unfriendly. The + wild beasts out there were friendly enough, you might say; but + there’s an uncanny look to it all. + +THERON + + I vote to go ahead and knock up the owner. If he’s no worse + than his own whelps we can stand it;—especially if he stands + for the drinks. + +GLAUCUS + + There’s no two-legged craft within hail outside—nothing but + four-footed gentry out here. + +EURYLOCHUS + + We might mount the stairs, then, cautiously, and see how + things look under the doorway yonder. [_Shaking his head_] But + I fear enchantment. + +[_As they approach the steps the hum of the spinning-wheel begins to be +heard. The men pause again, and look at each other a moment in silence. +EURYLOCHUS starts at the sound of the wheel, his features betraying +heightened anxiety._] + +THERON + + [_Slapping GLAUCUS on the shoulder_] God-a-mercy, it’s + womankind after all, Glauc! Come on! Ha, ha! + +ELPENOR + + Maybe it’s a mountain. + +[_They all move toward the steps again. THERON, with ELPENOR holding to +his belt, and GLAUCUS are now in advance; EURYLOCHUS is at one side; +PHORBAS and others are behind. As the first man sets foot on the steps +the wheel stops humming and faint music strikes up as prelude to CIRCE’S +song. Immediately a clear soprano voice is heard behind the scenes +singing the air, the chorus of the song being performed by a quartette +of women’s voices. The hearers are sensibly affected, showing their +feelings by appropriate pantomime as they alternately pause and mount +slowly higher and higher upon the stairs. EURYLOCHUS alone exhibits +symptoms of horror and repulsion; the others seem to be charmed and lured +on by the song. All of them except the leader are gathered together upon +the porch close to the doorway when the last stanza is sung._] + +THE SONG OF CIRCE + + Ah, who!—ah, who! + Who would dwell longer there _bis_ + In a rude world of care, + Of toil and care! + They only live, who hear + My song and taste my cheer— + Who my life share. _bis_ + Ah, who!—ah, who + Would toil and tarry there! + + (_Chorus_) + + They only live, who hear + Our song and taste our cheer— + Who our life share. _bis_ + Ah, who!—ah, who + Would toil and tarry there! + + II + + I know—I know + Where bubbling waters flow; + Where shadowy willows sway + And wood nymphs hide and play + In my round isle. + I know which clustering vine + Spirts out the sweetest wine. + Who would not while + Swift hours away! + Ah, who!—ah, who! + In my round bowery isle! + + (_Chorus_) + + We know—we know which vine + Spirts out the sweetest wine. + Who would not while + Swift hours away! + Ah, who!—ah, who! + In our round bowery isle! + + III + + I know—I know + What makes the wood-dove moan _bis_ + In the dark coppice lone; + I know the cure. + When floats the owlet’s cry, + Her quavering lullaby, + Who!—ah, who! + While night winds sigh, + Who would not quaff the cure! + Ah, who!—ah, who! + + (_Chorus_) + + We know, we know the cure. + When floats the owlet’s cry, + Her quavering lullaby, + Who!—ah, who! + While night winds sigh, + Who would not quaff the cure! + Ah, who!—ah, who! + +GLAUCUS + + [_Loudly, in a musical tone_] Hola!—hola! + +[_Directly upon the utterance of this call the low, shaded recess of +the doorway, which was dark before, grows bright with the same golden +radiance that had shone intermittently upon the fountain; and the throng +of visitors, excepting their leader, press swiftly forward and disappear +through the opening. Again immediately the light in the doorway changes +to blue, with electrical sparks. EURYLOCHUS, who is directing his gaze +toward the opening, shrinks back in alarm; and at the same moment the +spray of the fountain becomes blue and remains of that color. Descending +to a lower stair EURYLOCHUS peers under the doorway, listening intently. +No sound is heard. Then, his attention being drawn to the sombre hue +of the fountain, while he is looking away from the entrance, a large +serpent lets down its coils from the roof of the porch; and as the man +turns again toward the entrance he is confronted with its wide-open jaws, +forked tongue, and glittering eyes. As he retreats precipitately from +the stairs the serpent draws itself up out of sight. EURYLOCHUS stops +once more in the foreground to watch and listen for some sign of his +men within the palace; but as he turns toward the building, the head of +a wolf with glowing eyes is protruded from a clump of shrubbery. Upon +encountering this final apparition he flees in consternation from the +scene._] + + +V + +The Seashore again. The curtain rising discovers the men left behind at +the camp sitting irregularly grouped near the fire-place. ULYSSES stands +apart from them by the ship, busied in inspecting his arms, the spear, +bow, and sword, which hang near or lean against the vessel. When he +unsheathes and sheathes the sword to examine it while his men are talking +it is seen to have a brightly polished, rather broad, but not heavy +blade. Most of the time he stands with face turned toward the water, his +back to the Right. + +FIRST SAILOR + + Look here, lads; we can’t wait till noon for a bite! The + commander ordered breakfast so rattling early this morning I’ve + got a brand-new appetite already. + +XENIAS + + Well, take a nibble on that pile of Theron’s charcoal cakes + left over. They need a good appetite to make ’em slip down. + +FIRST SAILOR + + Maybe the mate or Glaucus’ll fetch in another stag or a wild + goat on their way back. + +SECOND SAILOR + + A wild goose more like; I wonder how far they’ve got anyway. + +PHILEMON + + They ought to turn up before noon. The commander said they + might get up there and return in a couple of hours, as he + judged—that is, if they scratched gravel lively. + +XENIAS + + They’ve got Theron with ’em, remember; he can’t pass between + two trees when they grow _too_ near together. + +FIRST SAILOR + + No, but he can clear a path with his cleaver for two men—him + and Elpy spindle-shanks. + +SECOND SAILOR + + [_In undertone_] By the way, the commander’s pretty busy over + there with his own cutlery. I wonder what he expects next. + +PHILEMON + + He expects to be _ready_, whatever comes. You don’t catch him + napping. Besides, who wants a speck of rust on a hanger like + that? The war’s an old story now; and this salt air’s the + devil’s own invention to make a blade stick to the scabbard. + +XENIAS + + ’Twas a pity he couldn’t draw it on that Cyclops hog. But if + we’d let the blood out of him it wouldn’t have let us out of + his pesky cave with a giant’s tomb-stone clapped up to the + door!—[_Whistling low as he looks up. XENIAS sits facing the + Right._] Whew!—What’s in the wind now? + +[_All turn quickly toward the point indicated by the speaker, not +excepting ULYSSES, whose attention has been attracted by the whistle. At +the Right from above EURYLOCHUS enters slowly and hesitatingly, looking +pale and haggard, his clothing torn and disordered by the brambles. +Observing that all eyes are directed upon him he stops as if afraid to +approach the company. Most of the men rise to their feet and move toward +him._] + +SEVERAL VOICES + + Hi! hi!—what’s the good word?—News, news? Where’s Glauc? + [_EURYLOCHUS responds only with deprecatory gestures._] + +ULYSSES + + What? ho, Eurylochus! Hast tidings? Why alone? + + What ails thee, mate? Speak out; tell us thy story! + +[_With gestures of dismay EURYLOCHUS moves nearer to ULYSSES, but does +not speak. ULYSSES regards him with an expression of deep concern. The +other men gather more closely round the pair._] + +XENIAS + + Wake up, man! What’s in your eye? We’re here to help; cheer up! + +PHILEMON + + [_Patting EURYLOCHUS on the shoulder_] Out with it; out with + it!—Go ahead; palaver! + +XENIAS + + Open up, old fellow. _You’re_ not dead, anyway. We’re used to + funerals by this time. [_EURYLOCHUS remains in his despairing + attitude and is still unable to speak._] + +ULYSSES + +[_Severely; taking a step nearer to EURYLOCHUS, while the men fall back +slightly._] + + Eurylochus, I enjoin you and command + To conquer this o’er-mastering mute despair. + Deliver straightway the account we crave + Of your commission and make known why thus + Alone and fraught with visible woe thou comest.— + Where are they? Speak!— + +EURYLOCHUS + +[_With effort; after further hesitation._] + + Noble Ulysses, we did most duly follow + Thy charge and indication. And when with sharp + Stretches of toilsome clambering we drew nigh + This shaggy island’s summit, where the ground + Sloped smoother, as these rude prickly folds gave way + To a tall grove of sombre trees which thrust + Their welcome shadows against the mounting sun,— + There ’twixt the spectral boles our upward glance + Fell on a portly mansion’s shimmering sides. + But first, as we clomb higher, a court-yard wall + Barr’d, though with open portals, our approach. + For at its mouth a glowering throng, Ulysses, + Of pards and grisly wolves sat by; not wild, + But of a tameness stranger and more awful + Than fierce beasts’ native temper—’twas sure sign, + And not the last, of foul enchantment. These + Strove not to tear and rend us, but were fain + Like petted dogs to fawn, wagging long tails + And monstrous paws on lap or shoulders throwing; + While in their eyes sad looks, half human, seem’d + To deprecate and warn. But we press’d on, + Heeding thy charge, Ulysses, to mark well + The human dwellers’ aspect and of them + Inquire, proved they not unbenign or harsh. + Dwellers indeed we saw not; but the whole pile, + As near its door we stood, did reek and rumble + With devilish witchery. Scaly serpents writhed + At every coigne; faces with fiery eyeballs + Peer’d out amid the foliage; and o’er all + Weird flashes leapt of lurid sulphurous flame. + Yet that which most profoundly stirr’d my doubts + And dark suspicions, was the unearthly _song_, + With languorous music mixt, that issued forth + To charm and tempt us with seductive spell. + Myself shrank back when on my ear that strain + Of woman’s guile or witch’s magic struck. + Not so the rest, Ulysses,—our lost comrades; + But the song bound and pull’d them; nor could I + Stem their mad folly. One spoke forth and call’d; + And as the doors swang wider all were swept + Under the hellish gap; which, closing, swallow’d + Like an engulfing whirlpool the doom’d crew. + For though, as the song ceased, I watch’d and waited + Long time for tidings or some sign, none came: + Naught but a dismal silence and increase + Of snaky menace and blue infernal gleams! + +[_Immediately upon the conclusion of EURYLOCHUS’ narrative ULYSSES, who +has listened intently, reaches for his sword near by; takes a quick look +at the blade as he draws it partly out and then pushes it back into the +scabbard; slings the weapon over his shoulder, puts on his helmet, and +then turns to EURYLOCHUS again. The latter exhibits fresh dismay at +seeing ULYSSES thus arm himself. The other men also are visibly affected +by their commander’s movements._] + +ULYSSES + + So then thou knowest the way, Eurylochus: + Lead on forthwith by the same path; show me + The spot where thou didst leave them. + +EURYLOCHUS + +[_Falling at the feet of ULYSSES and clasping his knees_] + + Not thither, great Ulysses! Take me not thither! + Thyself will ne’er return, I know right well. + It is the road to death or to some state + Of hideous, vile bewitchment worse than death. + Thou canst not rescue them! What power hath man + To battle with foul uncanny spirits?—Nay, + This isle is haunted. Let us fly; we are + Thus many left alive. To ship and fly! + +ULYSSES + + [_Scornfully_] Eurylochus, ’tis thy privilege; thou art free + To nurse thy safety, tarrying by the ship. + On _me_ a duty rests; my course lies clear: + My comrades’ fate I go to prove. + +[_EURYLOCHUS retreats and cowers while ULYSSES speaks, at the same time +gradually rising to a standing posture with his face toward the speaker. +He does not join the group of the other men. These have their eyes fixed +on the commander, some of them moving anxiously toward him. With his last +words ULYSSES starts to go out at the Right. EURYLOCHUS turns away and +sits upon a stone near the ship and the water at the Left, covering his +face._] + +PHILEMON + + May we not, sir, accompany you as guard + Or help at hazard? + +ULYSSES + + Nay, good men; remain + And guard the vessel. My errand’s of espial + And wary circumspection: meet for one; + For more, unsuited. I shall not slip. Farewell! + +SEVERAL VOICES + + Farewell! farewell, sir! + +[_The curtain falls as ULYSSES disappears, while the men stand following +his footsteps with their eyes._] + + +VI + +The same as Scene II. CIRCE’S banquet-hall.—As the curtain rises the +party who entered the palace at the close of Scene IV are shown seated +at the table on the Left, while THERMIA and other nymphs serve them with +food and wine. The cups are filled by pouring from tall slender pitchers +of silver, and these in turn by dipping the wine with ladles from the +punch-bowl on the sideboard. The Enchantress and her companions are in +their usual places. MYRTO turns her wheel slowly and intermittently +without noticeable sound. CIRCE, seated as before at the head of the +table on the Right, wears the same dress as in Scene II, but her black +robe is not thrown off. The wand lies upon the table near her right hand, +neither carelessly nor conspicuously placed. The throne at her left +hand, behind which PHILINNA stands, is occupied by _Mikkos_, who wears a +brightly polished collar. + +The guests are all at the table farthest from CIRCE. The throne at its +head, opposite her throne, is occupied by ELPENOR. At his left, near the +corner of the table, sits PHORBAS, partaking freely of the banquet, but +glancing nervously, now toward _Mikkos_ and now toward the door behind +the dais where they had entered. At the left of PHORBAS sit some feasters +with their backs to the audience. On the other side of the table, facing +the audience, are THERON the cook (at ELPENOR’S right) wearing his cap; +GLAUCUS (the farthest in the direction toward _Mikkos_); and other men +between THERON and GLAUCUS. + +It is near the close of the entertainment. Appearances indicate that +the banqueters have begun to feel the effects of the wine that is still +poured freely. They are also partly dazed and partly exhilarated by the +presence of the Enchantress and her elegant nymphs. The symptoms of +intoxication and bewilderment on the part of the men become by degrees +more manifest as the conversation proceeds. GLAUCUS preserves his dignity +rather better than his companions; but he seems fascinated by CIRCE, +to whom he is the nearest in his position at table; and he does not +refrain from drinking copiously, nor show due caution or a disposition +to remember the details of the mission with which EURYLOCHUS had been +entrusted. + +CIRCE + + [_After a pause_] Ye do full justice, strangers and kind guests, + To this our welcome and the cheer we spread. + ’Tis right. Go on; and so with act sincere, + Not by the hollow word, those virtues prove + Which to my bounty I would fain impute. + And truly, until a guest hath quell’d the pangs + Of sharp importunate hunger, it were ungracious + To crave of him accounts or ply his ear + With curious question.—I am well pleased to wait + Upon your silence keeping even pace + With appetite.—Ye have not sat of late, + I judge, at flowing boards. + +ELPENOR + + [_Loudly_] We had roast _deer_ yesterday. + +THERON + + [_Flourishing his fork_] Done to a turn! + +CIRCE + + Ah!—did ye then venture + To hunt and slay the creatures that frequent + My island park? It were no jest to play + The involuntary cannibal! + +[_Some of the men are seen to be startled by this remark._] + + Follow’d perchance + Unusual visions in the wake of the feast? + +PHORBAS + + Yes, yes! my sleep ran ghostly; but I thought + ’Twas a mere nightmare. + +ELPENOR + + I thought I saw a _horse_! + +CIRCE + + Of our four-footed denizens we note + Two sorts: one of original beastly shape; + Another, to which the brutal guise hath fallen + As fit encasement of their human habits. + And these two kinds, one from the other with sure + Discrimination to distinguish, proves + Sometimes not easy. Thus our good _Mikkos_ here + +[_Patting the ape lightly_] + + Was once a philosopher of the ancient sect + Call’d pre-Ionic—in his day the most + Redoubtable of doubters. + +GLAUCUS + + [_Gravely; nodding his head unsteadily_] + Madam, we doubt it not. + +CIRCE + + Fate ordain’d + That to this island he should drift and taste + Our cordials. Whereon he was profoundly struck + With my maid Myrto. + +[_Here MYRTO without looking up sets her wheel a-spinning loudly +for a brief moment, causing the banqueters to turn their eyes in her +direction._] + + From that hour a change + Came o’er him. + +MYRTO + + It was a harmless fancy; + And he is harmless now. + +[_Upon hearing MYRTO’S voice_ Mikkos _without turning toward her begins +to raise himself by his hands upon the arms of the chair, but at a sign +from CIRCE lowers himself to sitting posture._] + +THERON + +[_To CIRCE; pointing with his fork to PHILINNA_] + + But why, madam?—why did he not choose + That young miss there behind him? + +CIRCE + + He was a philosopher, I said. + +THERON + + He was a _pig_!— + +CIRCE + + Ah, by the by, Thermia, didst thou tell Graea + To renovate those sties? + +THERMIA + + I did, my lady. + More swine, she says, have bolted + And to the woods run wild. One sty stands empty. + +CIRCE + + It shall be fill’d erelong. + +PHORBAS + +[_Looking anxiously at a platter before him_] + + Might there be a possible doubt about these spareribs? + +CIRCE + + Not the least; + I have a discriminating cook. + +THERON + + [_Helping himself to more meat_] You can wager + _She_ knows pork when she sees it! + +ELPENOR + + My father feeds hogs too. + +CIRCE + + Thy father, gentle youth, will be to-morrow + One pig the poorer.—But where dwells he pray? + +ELPENOR + + He dwells at home; I left him there. + +THERON + + Lady, the lad forgets; I do much doubt + If his own name he can remember right now. + +CIRCE + + It is an infirmity that ofttimes with wassail + Waxes apace. But haply you, good sir, + Can tell me whence ye came? + +THERON + + O sure, ma’am! we came lately from a cove + Call’d Æolus. + +CIRCE + + Ah, what!—from my great kinsman, + The steward of the winds? + +THERON + + A windy stew + He brew’d for _us_!—Great Juno! _was_ it breezy, Glauc? + +GLAUCUS + + Madam, I am a sailor; but I never + Saw such incessant, damnable contrary winds + In all my voyaging! + +PHORBAS + +[_Rousing himself excitedly_] + + Yes, yes; but who? + Who let ’em out? Who let ’em out? + +[_GLAUCUS looks fiercely at the speaker and THERON extends his fist +threateningly toward him. PHORBAS shrinks away._] + +CIRCE + + But, gentlemen, pray inform me; whither now + Would ye be wafted? From which quarter should + Those breezes blow enabling you to reach + The desired haven? + +THERON + + We don’t know that, because + We don’t know where we are. + +ELPENOR + + We’re _here_ now. + +GLAUCUS + + We’re downright weary o’ pulling + Across head winds! + +CIRCE + + But which of you is leader? + Which one doth stand for steering and shrewd guidance? + +ELPENOR + + He stopp’d outside. + +PHORBAS + + We thought he enter’d with us; but once inside, + We miss’d him. + +CIRCE + + What _he_ hath miss’d he knows not. I shall send + Mikkos to fetch him. + +GLAUCUS + + Our leader, lady, + Is a good careful man, yet over wary + Of women or witchcraft. So soon he caught the strain + Of the song you sang it paralyzed him. + +CIRCE + + Ah! + +GLAUCUS + + Were he here now, he could not look you + Square in the face, as I do. + +[_GLAUCUS is gazing at CIRCE admiringly._] + +ELPENOR + + He might see + That brass snake on her arm. + +GLAUCUS + + He would abhor + The arm worse than the serpent. + +CIRCE + + Is then my arm + So frightful? + +THERON + + The arm’s all right, ma’am; but there’s something wrong + About Eurylochus. + +CIRCE + + So; Eurylochus is your leader? + +GLAUCUS + + Only a bit + Backward about leading, when he scents + A woman in the wind. + +CIRCE + + And he would fear + Us hospitable maidens?—and, we trust, + Of aspect not forbidding. + +THERON + + O, it’s all one + About the aspect. You could tree him, ma’am, + As quick as the giant’s daughter. + +CIRCE + + The giant’s daughter? + +THERON + + Yes, ma’am; we landed lately on a lot + Of bloody cannibals—this big gal first; + And Eurylochus took to a tree. + +ELPENOR + + [_Pointing to PHORBAS_] He climb’d up too. + +CIRCE + + What! does your friend fear women also? + +THERON + + O no, ma’am. Phorb’s a trifle timid like, + Whether it’s a he or she. You see, it’s this way: + Phorb was a-fear’d, because she was so large; + And Eurylochus, because she was a lady. + +CIRCE + + She _was_ a lady then? + +PHORBAS + + She laid out Theron + When he made up to her. + +THERON + + I had half a mind + To make pork chop o’ the bloomin’ hussy!—Ye gods! + This meat-knife here does hang plumb heavy + For an after-dinner appendage. + +[_He detaches the cleaver from his belt and lays it on the table, at the +same time loosening the belt._] + + I don’t want + The dang’d thing dangling at my haunches when + The dancing begins. + +ELPENOR + + When does it begin, Theron? + +THERON + + Split me if I know! There’s a raft more drinks + On the tapis yet. + +CIRCE + + My friends, I shall soon show you + A new dance call’d the four-step. + +SEVERAL VOICES + + Hi, hi! Hip, hip! [_They pound on the table with their cups._] + +THERON + + Ha, ha! The four-step; two-and-two two-step: + That means partners! + +[_He leers again at PHILINNA, drains his cup and waves it toward +her.—Other men seem to pay increased attention to the nymphs serving +them._] + +GLAUCUS + + [_Admiringly, but unsteadily_] Do you dance it, madam, yourself? + +CIRCE + + O no; but Mikkos knows it. + +[_Here the ape slowly raises himself by the hands until all four +extremities rest upon the arms of the chair, remaining a moment or two in +this position before lowering himself._] + +THERON + + Would you mind, ma’am, + Letting that there young miss step over here to take + The place of this one? + +[_He points to PHILINNA and indicates THERMIA behind him with his left +thumb over the shoulder._] + +ELPENOR + + [_Parenthetically_] Don’t take _her_ away! + +CIRCE + + A moment, sir; I have some present need of her. + One choicest cordial I have not yet brought + To your attention. In my island only + The vintage can be stored.—A jar, Philinna; + Here on my table. + +PHILINNA + + Do you mean, my lady, + The wine which for ourselves alone we press? + +CIRCE + + Yes, child; these are no every-day arrivals; go! + +[_PHILINNA goes out at Right 2. The other nymphs present, except MYRTO +and THERMIA, leave the room quietly and unobservedly, closing the Left +central door. THERON’S song begins as PHILINNA disappears. The refrain +and chorus are joined in by all the men except ELPENOR and PHORBAS, who +look at each other and laugh._] + +THERON + +[_Sings; still looking toward the door where PHILINNA went out._] + + It was a stout sailor who cook’d for the crew; + +ALL + + Sing yo, heave yo! + +THERON + + A-shedding salt tears while he season’d the stew. + +ALL + + A-shedding salt tears while he season’d the stew. + Sing yo, heave yo, on the briny! + +THERON + + Salt tears for the sweetheart that jilted him last; + +ALL + + Sing yo, heave yo! + +THERON + + And the onions he peel’d made ’em fall thick and fast. + +ALL + + And the onions he peel’d made ’em fall thick and fast. + Sing yo, heave yo, on the briny! + +CIRCE + + [_To GLAUCUS_] Would _that_ song paralyze your leader, sir? + +GLAUCUS + + The allusion would prick him, madam; depend upon it.— + + [_Turning to THERON_] One more, Thee,—till she’s back with the + bitters. + +THERON + + [_Sings_] One fine morning the pudding-bag busted a flap; + +ALL + + Sing yo, heave yo! + +THERON + + So he boil’d the noon mess in his greasy cook’s cap. + +[_Here THERON takes his cap from his head and lays it over a plate._] + +ALL + + So he boil’d the noon mess in his greasy cook’s cap. + Sing yo, heave yo, on the briny! + +THERON + + “For God’s sake,” cried the captain, “what’s struck the plum-duff?” + +ALL + + Sing yo, heave yo! + +THERON + + “We don’t need hogs’ bristles to flavor the stuff!” + +ALL + + “We don’t need hogs’ bristles to flavor the stuff!” + Sing yo, heave yo, on the briny! + +[_With the last chorus PHILINNA re-enters bearing a punch-bowl of elegant +pattern, smaller than the one on the sideboard at the opposite end of +the room. She places the bowl upon the table before CIRCE, while the men +become silent as they look on._] + +MYRTO + + My lady, may Mikkos have a drop? + +[_At these words the ape begins to draw himself up by the hands again. +CIRCE nods assent to MYRTO._] + +CIRCE + + Philinna! + +[_PHILINNA fills a cup from the bowl and hands it to the ape. She also +sets a small cup of wine before CIRCE._ Mikkos _drains the beaker, +holding it with both hands and throwing his head very far back; and while +the eyes of all the men are directed toward him with amused attention +CIRCE, opening a very small silver casket that hangs at her girdle, takes +a fine powder therefrom and quickly throws it into the bowl. She draws +the wand nearer to her hand._] + +CIRCE + + Thermia! + +[_At the word, THERMIA passes up to CIRCE’S table and she and PHILINNA, +filling pitchers from CIRCE’S bowl, proceed to refill the cups of the +banqueters in regular order, THERMIA from left to right, PHILINNA from +right to left. Then as they meet at the centre both the nymphs retire +together to the extreme Right near CIRCE. Meanwhile the sombre figure of +GRAEA the Swine-maiden is discovered lurking in the corridor behind the +Right central doorway._] + +CIRCE + + [_Raising her cup_] To the health of your backward leader, my + brave guests! + +GLAUCUS + + [_Half-rising; unsteadily_] Out, out! To hostess, hostess! + Here’s to hostess! + +[_All drink; and the effects of the drug straightway become apparent. An +expression of stupefaction and horror passes over the faces of the men. +They look at each other vacantly with forced smiles; their heads and +arms sway and droop; they swing round in their seats and are evidently +unconscious of their situation. At the first symptoms of this delirium +the Enchantress rises deliberately from her throne, wand in hand; and +gliding along the line toward the Left taps lightly and quickly each man +with the wand without pausing in her course. Then she steps upon the +dais._] + +CIRCE + +[_Sternly; with wand pointed upward and back toward the Right centre_] + + Hence to the sty! your proper shapes assume! + +[_Directly GRAEA, who during CIRCE’S movements has stridden noiselessly +into the room and has passed along its edge behind THERMIA and PHILINNA +and the Enchantress’ throne until in front of the other table near +the point where PHORBAS sits, raises her long whip and cracks it +fiercely with sharp detonation at the men’s feet. In a huddle they rush +tumultuously away with drooping heads and arms to the open rear doorway +and out through it, passing in front of MYRTO and her wheel and followed +by GRAEA lashing furiously. Some of the fugitives, as they drop on all +fours near the exit, are seen to have already developed curly pigs’ tails +at their posteriors. As the victims rush forth_ Mikkos _springs upon the +empty throne of CIRCE and balancing himself upon its arms gazes intently +into the bowl on the table before him, while MYRTO sets her wheel +revolving and humming loudly. The drop-curtain falls just as the door +closes behind the herd and GRAEA disappearing over the corridor._] + +The several positions at the fall of the curtain are as follows: CIRCE +stands upon the dais with wand raised in the attitude described. MYRTO +sits at her wheel, which turns more and more slowly as the curtain +descends. PHILINNA and THERMIA stand near the boudoir, still holding +their pitchers, the hand of one girl resting on the other’s shoulder. +_Mikkos_, poised upon CIRCE’S chair, his head lower than his tail, pores +intently over the punch-bowl. No person exhibits signs of amusement or +excitement of any sort. Their faces are serene, their figures motionless. +The wheel comes to a standstill just as the descending curtain hides it. + + +VII + +The same as Scenes III and V. The Seashore. EURYLOCHUS is still seated +on the stone by the ship, gloomy and dejected. The other men stand in a +group not far from him, apparently discussing some serious proposal. + +FIRST SAILOR + + Anyway he ordered us to stay here and guard the ship. + +PHILEMON + + Just so; I believe in obeying orders myself; but, lads, this is + an extraordinary case. + +SECOND SAILOR + + A case it is! But the commander’s equal to it I reckon. + +XENIAS + + The commander’s equal to anything on a square deal. But it’s + odds here against one man; he’ll need help if the land lies the + way the mate makes it out. + +EURYLOCHUS + +[_Turning and facing the others without rising_] + + Are ye all mad, and will not lay to heart + The sights and sounds of foul bedevilment + Haunting this cursed island? Will ye follow + Into the pit the steps of that rash man, + Foolhardy Ulysses?—the same who prick’d us on + To explore the ogre’s cavern, where six brave men + Were sever’d limbmeal and devour’d! + +SEVERAL VOICES + + Out! out! + +XENIAS + + Bother the ogre! The commander’s started now to pull half + the ship’s company out of a hole and if a human subject + could compass the business he’s it. But if there’s a dash of + witchcraft here, we ought to be with him and shoulder our share. + +FIRST SAILOR + + Ay, ay! that’s the talk! + +EURYLOCHUS + + What signifies mere number, when mortal wills + Clash with uncanny spirits? It is all over + With him and them!—We are enough to row + Our galley launch’d and from these shores deliver’d. + +SEVERAL VOICES + + Ho, shame! shame! + +PHILEMON + + Mark my words, lads; if the other fellows have got to trot + round in wolf and tiger skins we’re bound to go on all + fours along with ’em and not leave ’em in the lurch. If the + commander’s beating his way back we shall meet him on the trip; + if he isn’t, he’ll need help for certain. We’ll walk into that + domicile, witch or no witch! + +SECOND SAILOR + + Take her by storm! + +SEVERAL VOICES + + Right, right! Come on! come on! + +XENIAS + + Eurylochus here’ll stand shipguard. He won’t shove her off all + alone I reckon. + +PHILEMON + + Take up your traps now! Lively! + +[_The men stir about, making ready for their departure._] + + Here we go! + +[_They march away briskly, going out as the other party and ULYSSES had +gone. PHILEMON leads; XENIAS brings up the rear, watchfully._] + +XENIAS + +[_Turning back, at the last moment_] + + Don’t let her fly away, old man; + If you hear hell howling, it’s _us_! + +[_As the party disappears EURYLOCHUS with a gesture of despair flings +himself down by the keel of the vessel._] + + +VIII + +A grove upon sloping ground near CIRCE’S palace. Large trees cast deep +shadows with sunny spaces between. The mansion itself is not visible; but +on the Left at some elevation a glimpse is afforded of the court-yard +wall. A faint pathway amid shrubbery winds from the Right front upward +and out on the Left at the rear. + +Enter ULYSSES at the Right, tracing the path slowly and cautiously. +Perceiving the wall above and before him he pauses, moves his right +hand involuntary toward his sword-hilt and lifts the left to his lips +meditatively. While he thus stands reconnoitering and pondering, MERCURY +suddenly appears before him, stepping noiselessly from the shadow of a +tree upon the Left. At this apparition ULYSSES draws back an instant with +head slightly bowed, while his hand leaves the sword and is lifted to a +reverential gesture. The demeanor of MERCURY is easy and gracious. His +insignia, though plainly recognizable, are less conspicuous and brilliant +than they appeared in Scene II. + +MERCURY + +[_Taking the up-lifted hand of Ulysses_] + + Whither now, fate-worn wanderer, whither tending + Thread’st thou the dim paths of this briery steep? + What region holds thee or perchance what guile + Lurks in its mazy folds, wouldst thou not prove?— + Ere to that dome ascending, where in foul sties + Thy luckless comrades grovel now and groan, + To swinish shape by the enchantress changed! + +[_As the god speaks he withdraws his hand and indicates the direction of +the palace. ULYSSES recoils slightly at the last words of MERCURY._] + + One only, so minded that in Circe’s song + He read the bane it glozed, did value well + His safety and proclaim’d their loss.—Whom thou + Aimest forsooth to rescue and redeem! + Rather methinks the porcine couch to share + With them and vanish from men, came not + Some guardian hand between.—But lo! there grows + An antidote—a good drug, that shall check + The baleful magic of her potions. + +[_MERCURY pulls from the ground, moving aside the undergrowth which +concealed it, a small plant and shows it to ULYSSES._] + + See! + Black at the root, milk-white the flower; ’tis _moly_: + So to the immortals known; of men, scarce found. + +[_ULYSSES receives the herb from the hand of the god with an air of +profound attention and a shade of wonder._] + + Now may thy steps to yon weird mansion mount + And tread its halls unscathed, Ulysses, if + My mandate thou shalt heed and ponder well. + +[_ULYSSES shifts his attentive regard from the plant in his hand to the +speaker._] + + Her song will thrill thee, but the transforming spell + Shall break before the potent herb thou holdest. + Undaunted wilt thou enter; nor be shamed + If thy quick pulses bound when Circe’s glance + Encounters thine, and the soft audible charm + Of low-voiced invitation laps thee round. + Thou may’st admire and still be master. Straight + With her own hand a fragrant wine-cup filling, + When by her side she thrones thee, she will proffer + And bid thee drink—it is the poison’d chalice. + Yet quaff thou undismay’d, Ulysses. Then, + So soon’t is swallow’d and thyself unchanged, + Her magic wand wielded in vain, draw thou + Swiftly thy sword and rush as if to slay + At the enchantress with high-threatening blade. + +[_ULYSSES’ look of wonderment increases as MERCURY pauses._] + + The issue thou wilt mark. But let not pity + Nor the new spell of female blandishment + O’ercome thy senses or disarm thy hand, + Ere to its mastery yet once more she yields + And their true forms to thy changed mates restores. + +ULYSSES + + O gracious Helper, it is thy spirit that guides + Where eye of mortal swerves: to whom full oft + We pour’d thank-offering at the banquet’s close. + +MERCURY + + Who himself well bethinks, the gods assist. + Of drugs and arts uncanny mere human prudence + Compasseth not, Ulysses, sure defeat.— + But in her craft once baffled, ’tis with the _woman_, + No more the enchantress, thou wilt deal thereafter. + Nor are those powers to be despised, which oft + Compel a conqueror’s fealty and confuse + The sober aims of confident wisdom. + +[_While ULYSSES again looks down reflectively at the plant he holds +MERCURY suddenly disappears. ULYSSES, looking up and seeing the god no +longer, throws a keen glance in the direction of the wall. He then tastes +and swallows a morsel of the herb; and as he moves on and goes out at the +Left with firm step the music of CIRCE’S song is faintly heard behind the +scenes._] + + +IX + +The same as Scenes II and IV. The banquet-hall. The common chairs have +been removed. There are cups and a bowl on the table at the Right. The +Enchantress and her three nymphs are in their usual places when the +curtain rises: CIRCE sitting; PHILINNA and THERMIA standing; MYRTO seated +at her wheel which she turns slowly. The attitude of the persons is one +of expectancy. In a moment CIRCE, without turning her face, signs to +MYRTO with her left hand while with the right she draws the wand on the +table nearer. The wheel ceases to revolve. + +CIRCE + + Now Thermia! + +[_THERMIA throws open the door behind the dais. An instant later ULYSSES +enters, slowly but unhesitatingly, pausing as he stands on the platform +exactly where MERCURY stood in Scene II. His look is directed straight at +the Enchantress. His right arm is crossed downward upon his breast, the +hand under the mantle. A trace of wonder or fascination passes over his +face on meeting CIRCE’S gaze, while a similar feeling of surprise is for +a moment betrayed by her also. As she speaks she rises from her chair._] + +CIRCE + + Welcome, sir leader! + +[_ULYSSES bows slightly. He does not remove his helmet._] + + Thou art + Too far by thine own men outstripp’d, even though + Their famish’d weary members sought repose + Prompt and appropriate. + +[_ULYSSES bends his look more sternly upon the speaker._] + + Pray advance; and take + From our own hand, though proffer’d late, + Cordial refreshment. + +[_He moves slowly forward. PHILINNA draws well back the throne of CIRCE +and presents the other one. With a gracious gesture CIRCE waves ULYSSES +toward the second throne. He passes in front of her and seats himself. +She sits again, served by PHILINNA._] + + Thy silence augurs much + Of rude unfriendly greetings and rebuff + Elsewhere. + +[_While speaking she fills a beaker from the bowl._] + + But here are restful words and welcome + Right hospitable. + +[_Her right hand closes firmly over the wand, while with the left she +presents the cup._] + + So drink and be at peace! + +[_Still keeping his eye fixed upon CIRCE, ULYSSES raises the cup to his +lips and drains it. Immediately the gracious look of the Enchantress +changes. Rising partly in her seat and bending forward, she strikes him +smartly with her wand and holds it threateningly as she speaks._] + +CIRCE + + Hence to the sty! Go, join thy wallowing mates! + +[_Instantly, feeling that the potion has not harmed him, ULYSSES springs +erect, swiftly draws his sword and raising it aloft rushes upon the +Enchantress as if to kill her. With a loud cry she starts back, causing +the throne to slide away behind her; then dropping her wand she springs +forward under the threatening sword-arm in suppliant attitude. PHILINNA, +at first shrinking back in terror, directly as CIRCE falls at ULYSSES’ +feet follows her; and kneeling, shelters her mistress’ head with her +right arm, while the left is raised in deprecating gesture. At the same +time THERMIA starts a step forward with her right hand lifted, the left +pressed to her bosom. MYRTO, after a first look of alarm, reaches behind +her and throws open the Left rear door, where_ Mikkos _appears. He seems +excited. MYRTO seizes his chain. At the Right rear entrance, GRAEA is +seen glaring furtively into the room.—CIRCE speaks as ULYSSES seems to +hesitate to strike the fatal blow._] + +CIRCE + + What man art thou? What mortal hath this wonder + Unheard of wrought, these potions to abide? + For never, never did other lips unblighted + Press the drugg’d bowl, save thine!—Ah, yes; ’twas true: + _Ulysses_ thou art, whom Mercury foretold, + From Trojan field thy lone bark homeward steering. + He, he hath found thee moly! And I thought + It were Eurylochus, whom his followers named; + The craven, the woman-hater! + +[_ULYSSES lowers his weapon, still grasping it firmly. His stern look +relaxes slightly as CIRCE and PHILINNA, kneeling, lift their faces to him +with aspect softened to the expression of pleading. THERMIA steps nearer, +intently observing the scene; while GRAEA, entering the room, and MYRTO, +holding_ Mikkos’ _chain, also move slightly forward. At this juncture all +of the persons have come to form nearly a single group._] + +CIRCE + + O Ulysses! + Thrice valiant, thrice in wisdom proved, not thee + Would Circe in foul brutal shape behold; + But as thou art!—Return, return thy sword + To its safe cover! + +[_ULYSSES steps back a pace, and CIRCE rises to her feet, holding the +hand of PHILINNA who has risen first._] + + What use have we for war, + Whom fate and fortune fashion’d to be friends? + +[_With deliberation ULYSSES sheathes his sword, falling back still +farther. CIRCE and PHILINNA move forward toward him._] + +THERMIA + + Happy are they who find a friend in Circe, + Sir stranger! + +[_His countenance remains unmoved as he divides his attention between +CIRCE and THERMIA after a suspicious glance at Mikkos and GRAEA._] + +CIRCE + + Nay, doubt not, but be refresh’d! + +[_She signs to THERMIA, who shows ULYSSES to the throne which MERCURY +had occupied in Scene II. As he sits he doffs his helmet, which THERMIA +receives and hangs upon the wall. CIRCE resumes her seat. She speaks +while THERMIA serves ULYSSES at the other table._] + + And be thy mind at rest. No more of drifting + On the dark seas; sure knowledge shall illume + The pathways of thy homeward voyage, Ulysses. + +[_A pause. With troubled look he barely tastes what is set before him._] + + Ah, weary heart! why thus + Sit’st thou all-speechless, tasting not the food + Set guileless by thy hand? Believ’st thou not + My plain assurance and changed mood? Dost hold + The word of Circe in no honor because + With cunning art she baffles and disarms + The unworthy false petitioner? + +ULYSSES + + Fair Circe, dread enchantress, what true man + Could eat and be at comfort, whilst he knows + His trusty comrades lie imprison’d, bent low + To bestial habit?—Nay, if thy alter’d mien + Harbors indeed the good-will it portends, + Then first let me behold my men restored + To their own shapes. No falsehood stamp’d their errand, + Nor undeserving were they in themselves. + +CIRCE + + Deserve those well of their commander, who lose + His very name and tidings from their thoughts? + +ULYSSES + + Another led them; and, the leader failing, + The follower who forgets may be forgiven. + +CIRCE + + Eurylochus wins slight mercy by that word. + +ULYSSES + + Eurylochus won the birthright of the wary. + +CIRCE + + A father art thou to thy men, Ulysses: + Even as I guard with jealous motherly eye + The welfare of these nymphs. Nor hast thou long + To wait, ere the whole frolic throng shall make + My portals ring with greetings of their captain. + Not those alone whom we repress’d and punish’d + And for thy sake will pardon, but likewise they + Who tarry by the shore—for well I know + Wily Ulysses staked not all his forces + On a forlorn wild venture.—Nay, doubt not; + Even Eurylochus shall be reconciled! + Go, Graea; Myrto; seek the ship, and teach them + The way to find us. Leave not one unbidden! + +ULYSSES + + Great Circe, I will trust thee; ’tis sore need! + By thy sage guidance, or in no wise, we reach + The desired haven. + +CIRCE + +[_To MYRTO and GRAEA who have hesitated as if awaiting further command. +They go out at Right C, accompanied by_ Mikkos.] + + Speed now! the shadow creeps + Well past the noontide mark. Away, away!— + Noble Ulysses, thou shalt soon behold them.— + But first, my Thermia, show our gracious guest + The bathing chambers, where by warm showers assuaged + His long sea-weariness may release him. + +[_ULYSSES bows to CIRCE. He unslings his sword, which THERMIA receives +and hangs up near the helmet. She then conducts him out at Left 2. At the +same moment when ULYSSES puts off his sword, PHILINNA lifts CIRCE’S wand +from the floor where it had fallen._] + +PHILINNA + +[_Handing the wand to CIRCE, who receives it as it were unconsciously_] + + O dearest lady! + What chance, what change befalls us? O! how dared + That strange, still man to lift his dreadful sword + As if to kill you? Are his devices stronger + Than your own arts? O, how could you pretend + To cherish and befriend him! + +CIRCE + + Nay, Philinna: + I am not feigning. Oft had I mused and ponder’d + On Mercury’s warning and Ulysses’ name. + Nor did I dread his coming. But strange haps + Disturb’d my vision and I knew him not. + My potions could indeed avail no longer, + Their cure and antidote once found. Yet never + Into unworthy hands do gods resign + Their priceless secrets. No; I would not harm + A man so strong and wise! It is the _first_!— + Now go, Philinna, and lay my simples ready, + Which for the counter-charm I shall employ, + To change his comrades back. + +[_PHILINNA, who looks wonderingly at CIRCE and seems hardly to comprehend +her demeanor, withdraws slowly, going out at Right 2. CIRCE casts a +glance where ULYSSES had gone out; then, looking down at the wand held +loosely in her hand, soliloquizes._] + + Yes, yes; there is + No falsehood on the lip, when the heart guides + To new unwonted utterance, though it seem + All former strains and strivings to belie. + His coming I fear’d not; I rather craved + To behold the promised visitor whose shrewd wit + Should test my powers of magic and perchance + Turn them (as hath befallen) from woe to weal + For him and his. Yet till I saw I doubted; + Nor knew, first seeing. + +[_She clasps her hands at her back, holding the wand behind her._] + + O, there is a way + Surer than any drug, to bind wise hearts! + Wielding no wand of transformation, but + With fine invisible weapons to o’ercome + His might who seems to conquer; and reveal + What weakness lurks beneath. And Circe’s arts + (Which sooner aim to hinder than to harm) + Shall still fail not! + +[_Re-enter THERMIA, who begins to put the table in order where Ulysses +had been served._] + + Fair Thermia, we shall need + Straightway new-garnish’d tables and the plenty + Of a redoubled evening banquet. Soon + That eager company, Myrto’s charge, will troop + Past porch and threshold to the expected board— + Not indisposed, I fancy, toward such welcome.— + Ay, forthwith, Thermia! + +[_THERMIA sounds a whistle which hangs at her girdle, and other nymphs +enter and proceed to deck the tables._] + + Even our guest, their captain, + Will find his zest, when in good sooth he sees + His two ship-companies made one.—Ah, there; + Even now they come! + +[_A clambering and murmur are heard. The door leading from the porch +flies open, and ULYSSES’ company, headed by PHILEMON and XENIAS, enter +precipitately, though not in rude disorder, their faces beaming with the +excitement of wonder and expectancy. CIRCE stands at her usual place, +holding the wand with her hands clasped in front of her, and PHILINNA +appears at the door behind. THERMIA and her helpers desist from their +task at the tables as the men enter, and draw back near the exits. The +nymphs stand motionless and placid during the remainder of the scene, +taking no part in the action and unnoticed by the other persons._] + +PHILEMON + + Madam, we’re a bit unceremonious, no doubt. But our errand’s an + urgent one; and we encountered an invitation after a manner, if + there be no mistake about it. + +CIRCE + + All ceremony shall be waived, good sir. What hap + Fosters this urgency? + +PHILEMON + + We’re _Ulysses’_ men, lady! come to seek him and deliver him—by + your leave. He cast off alone when the leader of the other + watch came back from here in such a blue funk; and he ordered + us to wait for him by the ship. But we felt a trifle uneasy, + after that yarn of snakes and fireworks Eurylochus spun for us, + and followed to help. We’d nigh about made the top, when we met + your two maids, ma’am, and the monkey. We knew they must hail + from some witch-pen or other for certain, when we spied such a + bunch of triplets, and we veered off a point or two at first; + but the little black-eyed one—she as had the ape in tow—spoke + us so fair and told such a straight story, how the commander + was safe and sound and everybody happy up here, and you had + sent specially to invite us, that we felt mighty encouraged to + believe her and headed straight for the top again, while they + went down to fetch Eurylochus;—especially seeing we had made up + our minds—begging your pardon again, lady—to effect an entrance + anyway.—But where is he? + +CIRCE + + Your entrance had been barr’d nowise, when once + You had named Ulysses—which your mates forgot, + And came to grief thereby.—But you shall see him. + There hangs his sword, his helm. + He comes; he has heard you! + +[_ULYSSES enters at Left 2 behind the group of men, who turn quickly. His +appearance is imposing, his dress brilliant._] + +CIRCE + + For me, I have another + Business to set on foot.—Philinna; ready? + +[_PHILINNA signs affirmatively, and as ULYSSES greets his men CIRCE goes +out at Right 2, PHILINNA remaining at the doorway._] + +ULYSSES + + Xenias! good Philemon! + +[_All throng about their commander with hand-shaking and joyous +exclamations._] + +PHILEMON + + ’Tis you? You are here, sir?—and all right! + ’Twas a true tale, then, by the great gods! + +ULYSSES + + Ah, you see I slipt not. + +XENIAS + + But it wasn’t long before we slipt after you! Mind you, sir, we + didn’t wait for the summons. + +ULYSSES + + ’Twas a pardonable impatience, I acknowledge. + +[_A voice raised in sharp tone of command, followed by a sudden uproar, +is heard behind the scenes. CIRCE enters quickly at Right C, with her +wand raised high, which as she comes in she lowers and points backward. +Both the rear doors fly open. In their proper persons the men who were +changed to swine burst in abruptly upon the scene, one or two or three +at a time, stopping and gazing about them with puzzled and amazed +expression. They rub their eyes or tap their foreheads, till gradually +recollecting themselves they recognize their situation. The restored men +seem to have gained in comeliness; their faces are fresh, their clothing +is new, presenting a contrast to the well-worn garments of the other +party. THERON appears even stouter than before; his cook’s cap and dress +are dazzling white. ELPENOR, near him, has become sleeker, though no +less slender than ever. All the men are serious; and the re-transformed +exhibit profound emotion, weeping as they recognize their companions and +the commander. The meeting is an occasion rather for action than for +speech: its words are chiefly outcries and the ejaculation of familiar +names. The throng becomes more calm and quiet when the Enchantress, who +has herself been visibly moved, at length speaks, standing at the head of +her table._] + +CIRCE + + Cease; cease, good men! Enough of tears! Yield now + To the bright hour; and from your much-tried hearts + Let present peace and comfort rub away + The black unhandsome stains of foul mischance. + Here stand ye face to face and hand to hand, + Unscathed, unconquer’d. Winds and wild seas and all + The weary thankless strain of laboring oar, + Duress and guile and hostile rude encounter, + Have but conspired to point you to the fairest + Of restful shores.—Ulysses, in good time, + After due respite, if thou cravest still + Some farther convoy, ’tis secure. But now + Mirth, pleasure, shall prevail.—Only there lacks + Yet one I would fain welcome, though himself + Of faint reciprocation. + +ULYSSES + + Gracious lady, I am confident that Eurylochus will conclude to + join us when once informed of our situation and finding himself + left permanently alone. + +XENIAS + + Belike he may take to the woods, your honor, when the triplets + heave in sight. + +CIRCE + + O, Mikkos will manage that! + +ELPENOR + + Eurylochus climbs trees. + +THERON + + Avast there! Mikkos is the monkey. Hast left thy memory in the + hog-pen, boy? + +GLAUCUS + + [_Who has been on the lookout_] Sail ho! They are boarding the + gangway already, ma’am. + +[_Enter from the porch MYRTO, leading_ Mikkos; _then EURYLOCHUS; GRAEA +behind him. The mate advances hesitatingly, but is closely followed up by +the swine-maiden. As he perceives ULYSSES and the men his expression is +partly of relief, partly of shamefacedness. His alarm has not entirely +left him, but he casts shy and suspicious glances toward CIRCE while +MYRTO speaks._] + +MYRTO + + We have fetched him, my lady, though I believe he never would + have been caught if there had not been three of us together. + We found him down by the little bay where their ship is + drawn ashore; and when he saw us he started to run into the + water. But Graea waded out farther than he dared to go. Then + he climbed up into the fig-tree; but Mikkos climbed up still + higher, so he had to come down directly where I was standing + close to the roots of it; although he seemed to fear me the + most of all. + +ELPENOR + + [_Interrupting_] You turn the whirligig. + +MYRTO + + We had him between us now, where he couldn’t get away; and I + assured him the captain was safe, and told him how we had just + met a party of his companions and invited them for you. For all + that he didn’t want to come; but Graea stood close behind him + and kept walking until we got him here. + +[_The men do not laugh at EURYLOCHUS, though some smile faintly, and +CIRCE is visibly amused._] + +ULYSSES + + [_Seriously_] Eurylochus, all is well. Be thyself again. + Bygones shall be bygones. There is naught to fear. + +CIRCE + + Indeed, sir, it is as your commander says. There is naught to + fear; and all is well, now that you have deigned to make up the + perfect number of my company, so the entertainment may proceed. + The tables are ready garnished, waiting for the viands only. + You shall all find seats. + +[_All the men except EURYLOCHUS seat themselves in a quiet and orderly +manner at both tables without discrimination of the two watches. ULYSSES +sits at the head of the table by the dais. MYRTO and GRAEA have withdrawn +to the back of the room. CIRCE, still standing, claps her hands and the +nymphs at the exits disappear, to bring the courses._] + +EURYLOCHUS + + You make occasional exceptions no doubt, madam; nevertheless I + would take my oath upon it that _that_ was once a man! + +[_He points at_ Mikkos, _who, released by MYRTO, has just jumped into his +chair by CIRCE as she seats herself. The ape shows his teeth and begins +to raise himself by the hands._] + +CIRCE + + [_Laughing_] That was a manful _thinker_ once. Sit; sit, kind + sir! + +[_The curtain falls as EURYLOCHUS takes his seat near ULYSSES amid a buzz +of merriment._] + + +END OF FIRST ACT + + + + +[Illustration: ACT TWO] + +[Illustration: THE SECOND ACT] + + +I + +The back of CIRCE’S palace, late in the afternoon, one year later than +the occurrences of the First Act. The back of the building lies toward +the setting sun, whose declining rays are now intercepted and softened +into shade by foliage and flitting clouds. The pale yellow walls and tall +narrow windows and the one central entrance on this side are not obscured +by vines and trailing plants, but cleanly sheltered by a lofty colonnade +which runs the entire length of the edifice, with wide low pavement only +a step higher than the lawn that borders it. The veranda-floor and the +plinth are dewy with freshly sprinkled water. The green sward of the +foreground is varied by flower-beds and dotted with luxuriant trees, a +bower and seats near by. Here there is no fountain; but a streamlet, +issuing from an archway at the Right corner of the palace, winds its +way downward across the flowery slope. A peacock struts and spreads his +fan in one of the open places. Some utterances of persons represented +indicate that the situation affords glimpses of the sea. + +There are no suggestions of witchcraft or magic in the present scene. +Where the anterior façade of the palace seemed weird or uncanny, the rear +elevation and its belongings wear rather an idyllic aspect. + +The curtain rising discovers three couples severally grouped. Upon the +veranda, at the Left, CIRCE and ULYSSES are seated opposite each other +at a small table, upon which are cups and a vase of flowers, while a +nymph occasionally passes to and fro, serving them with wine from within. +CIRCE is not attired as enchantress. She wears neither her black robe +nor the coronal of pearls. The prevailing color of her Grecian dress is +amethyst, and her hair is loosely confined by a narrow band of gold.—On +the Right, at the farther end of the veranda, PHILEMON and PHILINNA sit +side by side in confidential attitude.—Upon the lawn, in the foreground +near the centre, far enough from the others to converse gently without +being overheard by them, are seen XENIAS and THERMIA: the former seated +carelessly facing sidewise toward the colonnade; the latter standing by a +tall shrub, cutting flowers which she gathers in the fold of her garment. + +THERMIA + +[_Who stands with her back to the veranda_] + + If you will take a good long look, Xenias, just where you are + looking now, you will see exactly why you and I are a whole lot + luckier than some others I might name. + +XENIAS + + How is that? What’s the mystification now, Miss Inscrutable? I + see only what we see every day; and no great signs of bad luck + about them yet. + +THERMIA + + Of course we see it every day! And every day is making it worse + for them, friend Xenias. Do you suppose they can keep this sort + of thing up forever? + +XENIAS + + Well, what if they can’t? I’ve no doubt the illusion is mighty + pleasant while it lasts. + +THERMIA + + And so much the more painful when it comes to an end—but you + and I have kept our wits about us, Xenias. + +XENIAS + + And have been uncommon good friends all the time, you mean, + Thermia—Well, I admit it’s the best way. But they don’t think + so. + +THERMIA + + They think of nothing! But it will set them thinking, when the + time comes for you to sail away. + +XENIAS + + If that time ever does come! The commander has got to order + it; and he doesn’t seem very likely to speak the word until + your lady orders _him_. It’s true some of the lads are getting + restive and tired of dilly-dallying, as they call it, here in + this blessed island! + +THERMIA + + Yes, and Graea gives me to understand that Eurylochus is going + about secretly stirring them up and wants them to put on a bold + front and demand that something shall be done. + +XENIAS + + Ah, so? He hasn’t said a word to me or Philemon. I reckon he + thinks Philemon and Xenias are in the same box. + +THERMIA + + Eurylochus doesn’t know the difference, of course! I shall be + sorry when you have to go, Xenias; I shall miss you sadly after + you are gone. But it will simply _kill_ Philinna. + +XENIAS + + Well now, what if Philemon should take her home to Ithaca with + him for his wife? _He_ hasn’t got any Penelope waiting for him + there. + +THERMIA + + O heavens! And do you believe Philinna would ever leave Circe, + or that Circe would ever let her go? + +XENIAS + + And do you believe Philemon would ever leave Philinna behind, + or that Philinna would ever let him go without her? + +THERMIA + + Xenias, it’s a pity about them both—the greatest pity in the + world! As for Circe, she really admires your captain; great + men are scarce enough, she says; but Circe will never lose her + head, even if Ulysses has lost his; nor will either of them be + quite heart-broken, be sure. But Philinna! Philinna! + +[_CIRCE, who has been laughing merrily with ULYSSES, claps her hands +twice._] + + Yes, now; here comes the music they feed on. + +[_THERMIA begins to move away as THRATTIS the lute-girl enters from the +palace in response to CIRCE’S summons._] + +XENIAS + + But stay, Thermia, and let us hear it. + +THERMIA + + O, it will only be the same old songs! Besides, I have my vases + to fill. + +[_She goes out round the Right corner of the building. XENIAS settles +himself in a listening attitude._] + +CIRCE + + Thrattis, we need thee still.—’Tis strange, Ulysses, + How, like some thirst or hunger, each day return + These tuneful memories! + +ULYSSES + + Yet, fair Circe, charged + With a more strange forgetfulness of all else + Than that they celebrate. + +CIRCE + + Hist, listen now! + +THRATTIS + +[_Standing midway between the two couples on the veranda, after a brief +prelude upon her instrument, sings._] + + Forget, forget! Ah, linger not + By dreams of yesterday! + Each vanish’d hour shall be forgot, + Fresh phantasies hold sway. + No lowlier crown the linden weaves + Of tassel’d verdure now + Because the old year’s scatter’d leaves + Return not to the bough. + +CIRCE + + [_While an interlude is played_] Our Thrattis echoes thy + thought, Ulysses; and indeed I find a certain sort of wisdom in + the ditty. + +ULYSSES + + Yet methinks it carries somewhat of a different effect from the + open intention of it. + +CIRCE + + Wait, listen! + +THRATTIS + + [_Sings_] Forget, forget! In love’s demesnes + No faded chaplet wear; + Nor conjure phantoms from lost scenes, + To sit unbidden there. + Round heaven her sign swift Iris sets, + Flings forth her jewel’d zone: + O, who beholds it but forgets + The frowning storm-cloud flown? + +[_The singer bends her head to hide her face as she sweeps the strings +again._] + +CIRCE + + Good Thrattis, thou art tired standing. Sit and sip of the + wine. Thou need’st sing no farther now. + +PHILINNA + + She weeps, my lady. + +[_As THRATTIS, declining the offered refreshment, turns and goes within._] + +CIRCE + + Poor soul! truly I pity her. + +PHILEMON + + But why does the girl weep, sweet Philinna? Has she some + express sorrow attending her? + +PHILINNA + + O yes, Philemon; nor will she put it entirely away. ’Tis three + years agone since she floated to our island, lashed to some + fragment of a vessel from the north which the hurricane had + wrecked; but her father and two brothers who so saved her life + themselves perished in the sea. + +PHILEMON + + O, sad story; unhappy Thrattis! Yet so I do much wonder at the + song she chose to sing. + +PHILINNA + + We could do little to assuage her grief. But Circe has been + kind to her and taught her the songs she sings so sweetly to + her lute. + +ULYSSES + + Perchance some such strains would comfort the child as the + captive Trojan maidens might listen to betimes among us at the + ships when the harp was struck. + +CIRCE + + Pray what, Ulysses? + +ULYSSES + + Such as sounded praise + Not for the living and the days we lived + (Which with their moil and megrim did afford + Scant food, I grant, for eulogy); but ever + With vision backward turn’d the bard would seek + Among long-treasured memories one most apt + And draw it forth. Then did we lose all sense + Of aching limbs, sore wounds, and comrades slain, + Whilst in high-swelling measures like great waves + Of Iphitus or Heracles he sang— + Glories of ancient men. + +CIRCE + + It was fair medicine + To still the pains ye dwelt in. In my isle + Such cordials find not place.—But come, Ulysses, + And see me prove the powers of that rare herb + Whereof I promised.—Philinna, attend us. Of simples + My sampler art thou. + +[_CIRCE laughs heartily as she utters the last words and she and ULYSSES +rise from their seats. ULYSSES joins in the laugh. PHILINNA smiles +faintly and seems loth to part from PHILEMON as these two also rise._] + +CIRCE + + [_Laughing again_] Thy Philemon + Will not forget so soon. + +[_CIRCE and ULYSSES go into the palace followed by PHILINNA._] + +XENIAS + +[_As PHILEMON turns toward him, stepping down from the veranda_] + + The commander and our Lady of the Herbs seem to be in a right + merry mood, Philemon. + +PHILEMON + + That they are indeed, to judge by the colors they fly. + +XENIAS + + _You_ take it not quite so. And yet methinks you have as good + cause as they to be blithe. + +PHILEMON + + I take your meaning, Xenias. Nevertheless I’m sheer doubtful + now and then—as though too great happiness should somehow have + a sobering effect, as you might say, upon a fellow. + +XENIAS + + Then belike when the commander sobers down a bit he will pass + the word for a home start. + +PHILEMON + + Ay, truly I have thought of it. + +XENIAS + +[_Laughing and clapping his friend on the shoulder_] + + But you’re not in a raking hurry about it; eh, Philemon? + +[_Re-enter THERMIA round the Right corner. She comes quickly toward the +men._] + + But here’s Thermia again, in a hurry about something or other + surely. + +THERMIA + + O Xenias! I’ve seen Graea again and have learnt that Eurylochus + has called all the men to a meeting at the shore to-morrow + morning early about that business. + +PHILEMON + + Ah, what business, Thermia? + +THERMIA + + You tell him, Xenias. + +XENIAS + + Philemon and I were just upon the same matter—about the + commander passing the word to cast off. + +PHILEMON + + Well, it seems the mate hasn’t invited _me_ yet. + +XENIAS + + No, nor me; he thinks you and I would pull on the wrong + quarter, laddie. But I shall be on hand just the same to see + how the wind does blow. Don’t you go, Philemon; you haven’t the + heart for it. + +THERMIA + + Ah, thou art sad, Philemon; I feel for thee. + +PHILEMON + + O, let it come; let it come! + +THERMIA + + Yes, the day is bound to come, sooner or later. I would I could + belate it. But farewell now. [_She goes out._] + +PHILEMON + + Xenias, I would not ask thee to hold back + And thine own sentiments belie because + Mine do enchain me so to Circe’s isle + As in its soil the roots of yonder oak + Are wove and knotted. No; it is for you all + Timely and reasonable—nor for Ulysses least— + To set your faces homeward. But to me + That home so dimly beckons now, I know not + If it be there or here! + +XENIAS + + [_Stepping closer to his friend_] ’Twas not thy wont + To doubt, Philemon, with faint wavering heart, + When we together oft by chilly Troy + Crouch’d with our captain in an ambuscade + Or sprang from the galley’s prow full-arm’d ashore + At Tenedos or Chryse. Be thyself; be bold! + The girl is not to the island rooted fast, + Even though, as they pretend, their mothers be + Fig-trees and fountains. We go: take _her_! Herself, + I’ll wager, nothing loth. + +[_While the last words are exchanged between the two men the figure of +GRAEA the swine-maiden, unobserved by them, is seen passing furtively +behind and occasionally halting as if to listen._] + +PHILEMON + + Ah, Xenias, + Thou knowest not Philinna. She is true + Not to me only. + +XENIAS + + I know. Untie them! + If need be, cut the knot! Love glories + In shifts and stratagems. + +PHILEMON + + Ah, ’twere not easy! + +XENIAS + + Think; ponder! Swear it: _If with Ulysses’ crew_ + _Philemon sail, Philinna shall sail too._ + +[_XENIAS seizes the hand of PHILEMON and they go out together at the +Left._] + + +II + +The Seashore, early in the forenoon of the next day. The scene is the +same as in the First Act, but the signs of a temporary encampment have +disappeared and the hull of the vessel is encumbered with grass and +weeds. The curtain rising discovers both watches of the crew (excepting +GLAUCUS and PHILEMON) disposed in scattered groups; some of the men +sitting or reclining; others standing. All seem pre-occupied and the +faces of most wear an anxious look. The demeanor of EURYLOCHUS, who +stands in a conspicuous position, is more confident and dignified than in +former scenes. + +FIRST SAILOR + + Well, I suppose the devil knows how long we have got to wait + before they show up. + +SECOND SAILOR + + We’re lucky if they ever show up at all. Ten to one Glauc’ll + come back without him. + +FIRST SAILOR + + Ay, ay! It’s a question whether even Glaucus can get the + commander’s ear—leastwise he’ll have to get Madam Circe out of + the way first. + +PHORBAS + + Mark me; we aren’t safe yet! There’s no knowing what sort of + beasts she might turn us all into even now, just to keep him + with her a year longer! + +SECOND SAILOR + + I’ve a notion we’d have done better to send a man of the + commander’s own watch—some one that never was a hog. + +XENIAS + + Bravo! where will you find such a one? Glauc’s all right; it’s + enough to have a man who wasn’t _always_ a hog. + +FIRST SAILOR + + Ha, ha! Theron, that’s one on you. + +THERON + + To hell with it! hang the hogs! + +ELPENOR + + My father _sticks_ his. + +FIRST SAILOR + + That’s the talk, Elpy; keep the culinary department straight! + +SECOND SAILOR + + But what if he’s so bewitched he won’t come and talk anyway? + +EURYLOCHUS + + Peace, peace! + ’Tis scarce an hour since we despatch’d our comrade + On no brief errand. + Be patient; have good hope! It hangs, I know, + On the razor’s edge; yet leans the weightier cause + Toward consummation. Witchery there is still; + Else were there little need to prompt Ulysses + To his plain duty. Drugs have their antidotes, + Which to employ are easy when once found: + More subtle—ay, more deadly! than her potions + Are these soft blandishments, cared she to play them + To their full scope. But it has stood forth clear, + Though once I did mistrust the promised convoy: + Not in malevolence the enchantress binds + Ulysses’ will. And when good Glaucus comes, + Fearless and plain of speech and charged with all + The prayerful hot commands we laid upon him; + When he, unheard of Circe, bids his captain + Arise, for old Laertes’ sake; and, backward + With stern reproachful finger pointing, names + The faithful wife who waits, Penelope, + Icarius’ daughter:—then, perhaps, this cord + Of crimson devilment will snap—remembrance, + Conscience awake. + +XENIAS + + Eurylochus, was it not + Here on this very shore a twelvemonth since, + Launching the half-mann’d pinnace, you would fly, + Your mates left in the lurch? + +EURYLOCHUS + + But for Ulysses + (This you would add) the doors of their foul prison + Had closed on them forever. + +XENIAS + + But to-day + They jest and laugh, though ’tis in Circe’s isle. + +THERON + + Damn me, too, if we’re the only ones that have learnt to + mumble spoon-victuals and dance with tree-toads in the + moonlight! + +EURYLOCHUS + + Xenias, there is a fear to which all others + Are as soft zephyrs to the tempest: it is + When spirits uncanny mock the paltry arts + Of mortal courage. But for my fear, no tidings, + No warning, no alarm had reach’d you. + +FIRST SAILOR + + Hi, yi! [_He points upward to the Right_] They’re coming! + There’s old Glauc digging down this way. + +SECOND SAILOR + + [_Spying through his hand_] Alone! by the living gods! + +[_Groans are uttered by some of the men, with gestures of disgust and +disappointment._] + +EURYLOCHUS + + Hold; wait! + He waves his staff; he smiles; he brings, be sure, + No grievous answer! + +[_Enter GLAUCUS bare-headed, carrying a staff with oak-leaves attached, +which he waves to and fro._] + +GLAUCUS + + All’s well! all’s well, lads! It’s a go; the commander has + struck his colors. We’re off, sure! + +[_The men throng about GLAUCUS, some hurrahing and throwing up their +caps._] + +SEVERAL VOICES + + But where is he? What’d he say? When’s he coming? + +GLAUCUS + + O, belay there! Everything takes time. He had to go and talk + with madam first, of course—and not take French leave like an + orang-outang. He’ll be here in a jiffy. + +PHORBAS + + Yes; but what’ll she make him say when he does come? I tell you + we’re not well out of this kettle of fish till we’ve cut loose + into high water! + +GLAUCUS + + Avast! He’ll say what comes into his head. The lady’s got a + head on her too: she’s not the kind of a craft to capsize at + the first catspaw of wind, don’t you believe it! + +FIRST SAILOR + + Put on a life-preserver, Phorb! Shin up the mast! + +ELPENOR + + The mast isn’t shinned up itself yet. + +EURYLOCHUS + + Glaucus, we owe thee thanks. + +GLAUCUS + + Not a bit of it! I doubt if we’d have dared to tackle him for + another year if you hadn’t put us up to it, old man. But you + may set me to walk the plank if he doesn’t talk fair now. + +XENIAS + + Hold on, lads! Seats again! there he comes! Stilly, stilly! + +[_Enter ULYSSES at the Right, wearing sword and helmet. His aspect is +gracious as he comes to a stand near the men, who sit in silence. Before +speaking he casts a contemplative glance seaward, then turns toward the +vessel._] + +ULYSSES + + Our good ship! Ah yes; the seams + Gape in her sun-parch’d sides, and rank weeds twine + Their prickly meshes round her shriveling keel. + Yes, yes, my men; full long we have sat still, + Basking in languorous fancy, rapt, unheeding + This summons to the wave. Nor tarried others + Behind, to follow and seize us: as when those + Who clomb the banks of Lotus-land and straying + Ate of the flowery food, their souls + Steep’d in forgetfulness, we seized and bound, + Stifled their cries and dragg’d them to the shore.— + To-day they are no more: so many + Death’s winged minions snatch’d and in wild sport + Flung them to feed the sea-god’s ravenous brood; + Or, on strange shores their white bones strewing, sign’d + The landmarks of our course.—What wonder, then! + What wonder, O brave comrades, if, so spent, + So spared, beaching beside enchanted bowers + Our single bark, lull’d under lustrous skies, + Encircled by fond arms, we linger’d fondly + And long. But now, welcome the tug and strain + Once more, as ye have will’d it: the bent oar, + The creaking rowlock, Zephyrus’ shrill pipe, + The thundrous pounding surge! Nor now, as then, + Shall we unpiloted and blindly plow + Our swift sea-furrow; but wise Circe’s words + Will be to us as beacons. We shall know + What winds press homeward; on which hand to hold + (When oft to night course our sick yearning prompts) + Orion and the Bear.—If only + Her solemn friendly warnings ye can heed, + Which in good time I shall expressly cite, + All may be well. + +EURYLOCHUS + + Trust your men, sir, for that—leastwise if past experience + avail them anything in the way of instruction for the future. + +ULYSSES + + So prove it! On the third morn we start. Meanwhile + Let none stand idle! To-day remains in part; + One other day to-morrow, whilst we urge + The labors needful to our voyage. Draw water; + The wine-jars and the barley-crates replenish; + Refit the tackle.—Now let the old ship drink + And plume herself again! + +SEVERAL VOICES + +[_As the men, who have already sprung from their seats, gather round the +vessel_] + + Hurrah! hurrah! + Off with her! Rush her out! + +GLAUCUS + + Look lively, lads! Knock away those props! Clear out the ways + there for’ard! + +SEVERAL VOICES + + Clear it is! Lively, lively! + +ULYSSES + + Eurylochus, I depute + To you the furtherance of these tasks. My presence + Another foresight claims. + +EURYLOCHUS + + Very well; very well, sir!— + +[_To the men, some of whom have climbed on deck_] + + Drop the bow-chains over there, boys! Catch on, half a hundred + of you! There she goes; steady, steady! + +[_The curtain falls as ULYSSES goes out at the Right and the ship, pulled +and pushed by many hands, begins to move toward the water._] + + +III + +The back of the palace, in the evening of the same day as Scene II.—As +the curtain rises ULYSSES and CIRCE are discovered in the foreground: the +former occupying a low seat by a tree; the latter reclining near him. +Upon the veranda, forming a group by themselves though not far removed +from the others, PHILEMON, XENIAS, THERMIA, and PHILINNA are seated at a +table, apparently playing at some game by the light of a hanging lamp. +ULYSSES and CIRCE are revealed to view by the rays of the moon, which +near its full is rising above the palace roof. + +CIRCE + + Those children are making a brave effort to play at their game, + Ulysses. They pretend to-morrow will be soon enough for parting + salutations. + +THERMIA + + [_Who has overheard the remark_] O Circe! Philinna cannot play + at all; she throws amiss every time. + +CIRCE + + Well, I doubt if her Philemon does much better.—There are at + least two aching hearts over there, Ulysses. + +ULYSSES + + Yet I have remarked Philemon seems not exactly depressed by it. + Indeed both he and Xenias surprise me, how cheerily they await + the event. + +CIRCE + + They are men: new scenes, new labors summon them; thoughts of + their home. But my poor nymphs must rest contented hereafter + with only me and the even sameness of our days. + +ULYSSES + + Even so ye lived blithe-hearted ere we came. + +CIRCE + + Hearts _more_ than blithe we knew not ere ye came. + +ULYSSES + + Counts not the added bliss as gain meanwhile? + +CIRCE + + True gain or loss the final balance shows. + +ULYSSES + + Then, till it’s struck, hope for the winning scale. + +CIRCE + + Such hopes help mortals cheat themselves, Ulysses, + Even of the present profit. + +ULYSSES + + But I note, + Thy tacit precept, thine own example, leads us + To drain the brimming cup and count as naught + What pangs might follow. + +CIRCE + + Ulysses, my example + (For in these closing hours I will confess it) + Hath my soul’s truest insight much belied. + Thou didst with moly baffle my magic art: + The _woman’s_ craft to baffle quite, no helper + Could guide thee to a clue. Hate there was none— + As well thou knowest: my bosom’s pride conceal’d + No sinister, vindictive purpose. But + Poor Circe, worsted, won her mastery back + And turn’d to sportive vengeance her defeat, + When with wise incantations wise Ulysses + She sang to sleep. + +ULYSSES + + There needed those more weary, + If not more wise, to wake him. + +CIRCE + + But meanwhile + My gentle partners, my sweet nymphs, I so + Imperilling left—that same mischance whereof + With a vague prescience more than once I warn’d them— + In these new toils ensnared, when the spell broke, + To droop as their own clipt flowers. + +[_While the last few words are pronounced there has been brisk talking, +not distinctly overheard, on the part of the other group._] + +THERMIA + + [_Loudly_] O, for shame, Philemon! What a thing to say! + +PHILINNA + + [_Passionately_] ’Tis _he_; ’tis he himself cares not! + +CIRCE + +[_Turning toward the veranda, where PHILEMON and XENIAS have just risen +to their feet_] + + Ah, now! what coil is this? Philinna, speak! + +THERMIA + + O Circe! ’tis Philemon—and Xenias too; they say + We are but women’s women: at the last moment + (They tell us) we choose _you_! + +CIRCE + + O foolish children! + Must your vain quarreling blight such hours as these!— + But whither? Philemon! Xenias! will you leave us? + +PHILEMON + + ’Tis only, my lady, a certain business calls us forth expressly + at this time. + +ULYSSES + + So, my men? A strange time for business, is it not? + +XENIAS + + It were so, sir, but for a slight affair of our own, to which + we should properly give our attention by high moonlight only. + +CIRCE + + [_Laughing_] Holy Diana! Have they, too, turned to magic? + +XENIAS + + Pray excuse us, all! + +[_The two young men go out by the Right corner. PHILINNA, bending over +the table, covers her face with her hands, while THERMIA rising attempts +to soothe her._] + +CIRCE + + O, mind not, dear Philinna, his hasty words! + Though heartless sounding, they did rather prove + The same concern that draws thine own tears now. + Lead her within; thou canst console her, Thermia: + Thy stronger courage will avail. + +[_The two nymphs go into the palace._] + +ULYSSES + + Circe, I like not this foolery of the high moonlight. Though it + be a trifle ludicrous, the lads seemed right serious about it + nevertheless. ’Tis unlike Philemon. I like it not. + +CIRCE + + O put the thought aside, Ulysses! + It is some youthful prank, or a mere jest + Fresh-coin’d with sober mouth. Nor falls amiss + Thus on the girl’s untried, too tender spirit + Some jar and crossing ere the final shock, + So to forestall and break it. + And this moon! + Well she deserves, Ulysses, in thy sight. + Have we not sought ourselves her soothing spell? + Masking a farewell colloquy in smiles, + As yonder silver’d wave-tips feign deliverance + From the encircling gloom of envious night. + Ah! if thou didst but know, + Son of Laertes, half the struggles that wait thee + By Neptune’s billowy realm and, rescued thence, + In deadly strife at thy rude island-home, + Then wouldst thou feel, perchance, less haste to leave + Circe, the frail enchantress.—Ay, not all + The signs to guide and perils that impend + Canst thou learn now. Some, long in mystery wrapt + (Nor wouldst thou choose to speed them), time will teach; + Others, from ghostly lips compell’d, when soon, + By Ocean’s stream thy lone bark moor’d, thou standest + At the dark doors of Hades to evoke + Theban Tiresias’ shade, the seer shall utter. + +ULYSSES + + Dread Circe! + O strange, unpitying prophetess, no mortal + Reaches by sail or oar that awful strand. + +CIRCE + + Thou shalt be one, Ulysses, who, twice dying, + Twice lives to rue his birth.—But hearken; + And on the mindful tablets of thy soul + Grave these my warnings. Back from the sunless shore + Of pale Persephone the refluent tide + Will bear thy bark unurged: till, facing + The ruddy sources of recover’d day, + Fresh-waken’d breath of quickening winds she feels + Smite on her listless sail. So hold her prow, + Toward Eos striving surely, from my isle + Farther and farther speeding. + +ULYSSES + + But how soon? + How soon, O Circe, may our glad eyes behold + Some signal of known lands? + +CIRCE + + So much not yet + May be unveil’d; nor yet, what remnant lingers + Of crew or vessel until that hour.—But hear, + How (lest their doom be hasten’d) on thy helmsman, + When ’twixt unlovely neighbors he must steer, + The crisis hangs. On this side Scylla lurks, + Snarling in her cliff-cavern; on that, Charybdis + Retches, with swirling gorge. Thrice happy he + Who, nor to the right inclining nor the left, + Cleaves straight the midway mark with even keel. + +ULYSSES + + But why not of the engulfing pest steer wide + And with arm’d hand fend off the other’s onset? + +CIRCE + + Ah! + Thus do presumptuous mortals vaunt their cunning, + Or vain force, where alone swift vision wins.— + If, then, alternate ruin ye elude, + In some part scatheless, sweep with thankful hearts + The gleaming waters’ wide unbroken waste. + Then soon, Ulysses, as to my lay thou only + Mightst listen and be saved, even so alone + May’st thou, safe sailing, hear the Sirens’ song. + +ULYSSES + + Breathe any so sweet a strain as that, O Circe, + Which binds the caller at the moaning porch? + +CIRCE + + Not binds, but draws! No sense-benumbing spell + Boast the sea-maidens, nor themselves are fair. + Their theme, what men call _glory_; and the strain, + Bell-like, o’er the hush’d seas far pealing, calls + With a resistless summons to their shore. + It, with white skulls and rotting wreckage lined. + Thou shalt speed by, yet hear. Lash’d to the mast + By thy men’s hands—themselves with wax-stopt ears— + Bid them, when thou with frantic dumb entreaty + Wouldst sign their stroke toward that melodious lure, + Pull stronger and swerve not, with firmer bonds + Lashing thee still, while yet one echo + Of siren-voices lingers. + +ULYSSES + + Circe, full long + Thy tale of helps and hazards, though not few + Still on their fixt oracular moment wait. + Be these enough, while courage step by step, + Conning each several danger, learn to face it. + +CIRCE + + ’Tis well. + +[_Thus far CIRCE has been reclining, with occasional changes of attitude +due to the earnestness of her discourse. She now rises to a sitting +posture._] + + [_Laughing_] But forget not, most prudent captain, + The risks thy moonstruck followers would invite + In these my precincts! + +[_She gives her hand to ULYSSES, who assists her to rise._] + + It were worth while to note + Their traces. Come; they went this way. + +[_She leads out at the Right, ULYSSES following with downward thoughtful +look._] + + +IV + +The grove upon sloping ground, at noon of the day following the previous +scene.—Enter from the Left downward MYRTO leading _Mikkos_. With a glance +toward the path on the Right she seats herself under the tree by which +MERCURY appeared to ULYSSES, while the ape, whose chain MYRTO continues +to hold, swings himself to a low branch above her. + +MYRTO + + Well, Mikkos, they are not here yet.—But Graea never loiters + and they will soon come. Now I charge thee once again; and be + thou, as a reflecting animal, less slow to curb thy native + animosities, Mikkos! Look not upon Eurylochus as thine enemy, + receiving him with angry and unseemly gestures. Eurylochus + is our friend to-day; and his co-operation in the present + emergency is invaluable.—Hear’st thou, Mikkos? [_The ape grins + and wags his head._] Very well; now conduct thyself like a + rational being! I hear them coming. + +[_Enter from the Right upward EURYLOCHUS, followed closely by GRAEA. The +former, after a suspicious glance at_ Mikkos, _who shows his teeth and +tries to shake his chain, turns inquiringly toward MYRTO who remains +seated while the others stand._] + +EURYLOCHUS + + Graea has by her signs made known to me, Myrto, that you would + have me attend you here at this time; and I have inferred from + the earnestness of her manner that the message is of importance. + +MYRTO + + Important indeed it is, Eurylochus: I need your assistance; + and not for myself alone—perchance even somewhat for thine own + weal; but especially on behalf of the lady Circe and all of us + her poor companions—whom to be sure thou lovest not. + +EURYLOCHUS + + One may love not, Myrto, and yet be nowise lacking in + good-will. You would not have called in an unfriendly hand to + aid you. + +MYRTO + + In the present matter at any rate thou wilt be sure to side + with us.—Wouldst thou choose to take one of us home with thee + in the ship, Eurylochus? + +EURYLOCHUS + + How? What? Forbid it, mighty Apollo! Is your mind wandering, + Myrto? + +MYRTO + + It is not I, but a pair of your pretty comrades whose wits are + wandering; for they would carry away Philinna, unbeknown to + Ulysses and the rest of you, hiding her in the vessel. + +EURYLOCHUS + + Ah! we know of Philemon’s madness—and the girl consents to this? + +MYRTO + + No indeed! they will put her to sleep with Circe’s drug— + +EURYLOCHUS + + [_Interrupting_] O Heracles! + +MYRTO + + And so bring her aboard the ship to-night, while you are all at + the palace partaking of the farewell feast. + +EURYLOCHUS + + Then if you have discovered this plot, why not warn her + straightway and cut it short? + +MYRTO + + Not so, Eurylochus! + +[_MYRTO rises and addresses herself earnestly to him._] + + Not till the latest moment must Philinna + Perceive the strange and treacherous design + Of him she loves, who, if he loved her less, + Would spurn the trick his clever mate has taught him. + Now hear me; and observe + How thou shalt aid us, with least harm to foil + This harmful scheme. Nothing the herb itself + Of baneful sort to mind or body works: + But whoso of its fragrance breathes in slumber, + For six-and-thirty hours wakes not again, + Nor feels, nor can be roused. They hold its leaves + Gather’d beneath pale moonbeams, when the plant + Best cools its juices and conserves its force. + These they will bruise and spread + About the pillow of Philinna’s couch, + Where she each day—now at this very hour—Seeks + her brief noontide sleep: by the moss’d bank + So near the waterfall its gauzy spray + Like an ethereal veil enshrouds the bower + Where our companion rests; and muffled tones, + Voiced by perpetual whirling waters, soothe + The slumberer’s ear. Of vines her bed is join’d: + Gnarl’d stems which from the vineyard pruning once + We fashion’d to a woodland couch, to sit + And watch the headlong stream. This lifting + (So Graea heard them whisper) they will bear + With its fond burden shoreward ere the dawn, + While yet ye feast and revel. And they hope + To hold her hidden (nor will she wake) until + Too far at sea the flying ship hath sped + For ruth or reparation. + +EURYLOCHUS + + O great gods! + Herself by good rights, waking then, should rue + Her wanton witcheries. + +MYRTO + + Peace, Eurylochus; peace! + Perverse and all one-sided is thy sense: + On the other side thy mother bore thee blind. + Not yet hast thou been taught the part thou playest + In the prevention.—At the feast this night, + Ere the two plotters to their work slip out, + I at my wheel (whom thou wilt watch) shall give thee + This sign—with finger prest to lip: whereat + Thyself withdrawing noiselessly to join + Graea who waits without, with her wilt hie + To poor Philinna’s bower: and both shall bear + Hillward by the back path the couch and sleeper + Into the banquet-hall to Circe. + +EURYLOCHUS + + And what revenge + Will Circe wreak upon the thieves? + +MYRTO + + Circe is wise; + Needs not our counsel.—And, Eurylochus, mark: + Thy secrecy here will stand thee in good stead. + A narrow pathway tread ye all, so long + In this round isle ye linger! Go; and be mindful!— + +[_EURYLOCHUS goes out at the Right downward._] + + Now, Graea—for thy sharp ear no caution needs,— + His part and thine are fixt. And further, Graea; + When chilly night descends, visit her bower + And lay soft fleeces o’er Philinna’s form, + Sheltering her deep dishonest sleep. + +[_GRAEA by signs gives her assent_, Mikkos _jumps down from the tree, and +all go out by the Left upward._] + + +V + +The same as the first scene of the play. The Front of the Palace in the +afternoon. The porch and its steps are already in the shade. The curtain +rising discovers THERMIA seated upon one of the lower steps thoughtfully +regarding the fountain, which plays faintly. Enter MYRTO upon the porch +from within. + +MYRTO + + [_Taking her seat upon a step_] Yes, there is shade here now; + Circe will come soon. + +THERMIA + + I know not why I feel so anxious, Myrto,—wondering what + communication you can have to make while Ulysses and his men + are away at the lading of their vessel. + +MYRTO + + Now pray, Thermia, if what I shall say to Circe startle you + in some degree, restrain yourself and show not perturbation. + Circe, as you well know, likes not hasty suggestion in what + concerns her deeply. + +THERMIA + + ’Tis true; I will be prudent. O, what can it be? + +MYRTO + + Wait; here she comes now. + +[_CIRCE entering descends the stairs to a seat just within the +lengthening shadow by the fountain. She wears her canary-colored tunic, +but not the black robe._] + +CIRCE + + [_Turning toward the stairs_] Myrto! Thermia! Where is Philinna? + +MYRTO + + She sleeps, my lady. + +CIRCE + + Sleeps still? ’Tis past midday more than two hours! + Philinna is wont to sleep soundly, but not long. + +MYRTO + + She will sleep long this time, Circe: Philinna will not wake + to-day. + +CIRCE + + [_Starting to her feet_] What! Not wake to-day? Dost thou + trifle with me, girl? + +MYRTO + + Indeed I do not trifle with you. But fear not, dear lady; there + has been mischief, but harm will not come to Philinna. + +CIRCE + + Mischief—mischief? Methinks I divine somewhat. But speak; + explain thyself forthwith! + +MYRTO + + They have given her the sleeping-plant which last night they + gathered under the moon. + +THERMIA + + [_To herself_] Ah, I see my precious Xenias’ finger here; the + traitor! + +CIRCE + + O! O! Audacious, shameless souls! + With my own drugs would they outwit me? O! + I see! I see! Thus they will _steal_ Philinna. + But holy Diana! [_Laughing scornfully_] So sly, and yet so simple! + They were twice foil’d, ere such a plot could prosper. + +MYRTO + + Truly there needs small skill to circumvent them: + Such I have summon’d. + +CIRCE + + But the herb? + +MYRTO + + I show’d them. + +CIRCE + + What? Myrto, Myrto! + +MYRTO + + Stay; hear me, Circe. + Their plan I knew beforehand; and ’twas better + _She_ knew it not; should rather sleep; nor wake + Till the whole farce were play’d—seest thou, my lady? + +CIRCE + + O clever Myrto! Not in vain thou sittest + Demurely by thy wheel, as if its hum + And spinster’s sordid finger-work were all + Thy wits could compass!—thou, the nixie-born; + With newts and water-beetles nurtured!—But how + Came it to light? + +MYRTO + + They came to me, + To find for them the herb. The tale they told, + How, when the ship had sail’d, among themselves + Some sport they would devise. But Graea already + Had overheard their whisperings and advised me. + +THERMIA + + Graea is everywhere and hears all things! + +CIRCE + + Hush, Thermia! + +MYRTO + + Because she hath no tongue they do forget + Her sharpen’d ears.—Safely Philinna sleeps; + And to your side shall she be brought to-night + During the banquet. + +CIRCE + + Ah! ah! + +THERMIA + + And will they dare, finding her not, + To wait for such an issue? + +CIRCE + + Whither pray + Might they seek refuge?—Two alone are guilty; + And two alone shall answer for the guilt; + Nor shall the feast be marr’d. Go now; + And urge its preparation. + +[_The two nymphs go into the palace._] + +CIRCE + + Poor purblind men! + O, how short of the mark their vision falls! + Phantoms, bred of precipitate desire, + Aiming to grasp, but comprehending not + The check and natural limit.—So the same + At whose achievement we should rave, in failure + We pity and forgive. Ay; to know more + And to see farther than for themselves they see + Doth make forbearance easy. How would they change + For sweet Philinna’s rainbow-guarded sleep + Their own long slumber in the fishy deep! + +[_She ascends the steps and goes into the palace._] + + +VI + +The banquet-hall late at night. The feasting is near its end and the +wine has begun to be poured at the farewell entertainment given by CIRCE +to her guests in the last hours before they set sail. The Enchantress +sits at the head of her table, wearing her black robe and coronal of +pearls. THERMIA and MYRTO are in their usual places; but PHILINNA is +absent and the throne at CIRCE’S left has been removed. ULYSSES sits at +the head of the table by the dais. His demeanor is serious; but the men +though orderly are in high spirits as they join in the chorus, with the +exception of PHILEMON and XENIAS, who seem pre-occupied, seated together +near the exit behind ULYSSES. EURYLOCHUS is so placed as to face MYRTO +at her wheel. The first chorus following is sung before the rise of the +curtain. + +(_Chorus of men’s voices behind the scenes_) + + Never fear for your ship if you handle her right; + She will scamper all day and eats nothing at night. + Stick her nose in the sand, she is safe in the stall; + She’s a carriage and horses and stable and all. + +[_Curtain rises_] + +GLAUCUS + + [_Sings_] We sampled his cheeses and bunk’d in his den, + But when he came home he ate six of our men.— + “People don’t come a-foot when they come to see me: + Now where did you leave the old frigate?” cried he. + + (_Chorus_) + +GLAUCUS + + It was a big pickle, we forged a big lie: + “A thunderbolt struck her, Sir Cyclops,” said I; + “Tore a hole in her timbers as wide as a door; + She sank to the bottom and we swam ashore.” + + (_Chorus_) + +GLAUCUS + + So we punch’d out his eye with a stake while he snored, + Then broke for the landing and scrambled aboard.— + His rock was a load for a twenty-mule team: + “Heave hard there”! I shouted; “heave hard, Polypheme!” + + (_Chorus_) + +GLAUCUS + + First time he shot high; and the swashing great wave + Sent her back on a dance to the mouth of his cave. + His second fell short: ’twas a booster behind + And scooted her for’ard, quite well to our mind. + + (_Chorus_) + + Never fear for your ship if you handle her right; + She will scamper all day and eats nothing at night. + Stick her nose in the sand, she is safe in the stall; + She’s a carriage and horses and stable and all. + +CIRCE + + Our friend Glaucus would usurp the role of his captain, + apparently, when he celebrates that famous scene, Ulysses. + +ULYSSES + + And right welcome is he to any glory he may borrow therefrom. + Verily there was little enough for me to boast of in the + adventure. + +GLAUCUS + + It’s true the commander got us into the scrape, madam, if he + will allow me; but there would need a longer song than any we + have sung yet to tell the whole story, how cleverly he got us + out of it. + +THERON + + Damme! a great song! Not a word about the tipple that did it + all! + +ELPENOR + + And the sheep-ride too. + +A VOICE + + Ay, ay!—’twas the tipple that did for him. Let the old sinner + play blind-man’s buff with his bell-wether now! + +ULYSSES + + Enough! + Now the cry homeward and the forward glance + Shall banish retrospect. These claim our care. + Fair winds suffice not; + Nor the good hopes by gracious friends inspired, + Where prudent counsel fails. + +CIRCE + + Most timely said! + Experience ends not with each wondrous hap. + Ye know not yet, good men, your several fates + Cradled beyond my island’s guardian pale. + Obedience and true caution shall avail you + Not less because your course be pointed clear. + These save while they endure.— + But now our ancient welcome is exchanged + For farewell greetings. Nor indeed comes song + Amiss at such an hour. + +[_She claps her hands twice and THRATTIS enters with her lute, standing +by the sideboard. While the attention of all is thus drawn away MYRTO +gives the sign to EURYLOCHUS, who slips out unobserved._] + +CIRCE + + Our guests have just sung a gay song in honor of their ship, + Thrattis. Perchance thou canst match it with one from thine own + store. + +[_THRATTIS smiles faintly and begins a slow prelude upon her instrument +in a minor key._] + +ELPENOR + + She knows how to make it cry. + +THERON + + Hush, boy; mar not the music! + +[_The girl sings slowly with irregular pauses and interludes at +significant points in the recital. The music itself is marked by +chromatic changes, with the last two stanzas taking on distinctly the +character of a funeral march. Before that part of the performance is +reached PHILEMON and XENIAS, taking advantage of the rapt attention of +the company, steal out unnoticed._] + +THRATTIS + + Sea-wind o’er the ripples crept; + His cool breath my temples swept; + Sea-wind whisper’d, as I slept + Near to the wave. + From his caverns, hollow-toned, + Sea-wind mock’d my dream and moan’d. + In my sleep I turn’d and groan’d + As in the grave. + Through lank grasses, swaying slow, + Peering with green eyes a-glow + Sea-wind stole and mutter’d low: + “Wake not! sleep on, + If my vision thou wouldst share:— + The split mast; the lightning’s glare; + Shrouds whirl’d wildly in mid-air! + See! her helm gone, + The vessel plunges. Lo! again + Caught by the deadly hurricane, + Crackling bolt and hissing rain, + The hull spins round; + Breaks, sinks! One man breasts the tide; + Clutches spar and climbs astride; + A sea-courser seems to ride.— + Vague depths profound + With white feet the others tread; + Seek on ocean’s floor their bed; + Or, to rude shores blindly led, + Full nigh they draw; + Ram-like, butt the flinty stones. + The gray sea a dirge intones, + Whilst the fat casing of their bones + Dumb fishes gnaw.” + +ULYSSES + +[_After a pause, when the chords struck in conclusion of the song have +ceased to sound_] + + The maid hath not sailed the south seas in vain, upon my soul, + Circe! + +GLAUCUS + + By the twin gods, ye would think she came straight from Davy + Jones’ locker, let out alive! + +CIRCE + + ’Tis a brief step from life to death: why then + Shall not the venturous errant fancy feign it + Thrice taken and retraced? From death to life + Were as from sleep to waking; nor, if dreams + Might linger on the skirts of such a change, + Should they unheeded pass.— + +The words of CIRCE are interrupted by the entrance at the Right rear +doorway of EURYLOCHUS and GRAEA bearing the rustic couch upon which the +form of PHILINNA is extended as upon a bier. As they enter, GRAEA, who +sustains the rear end at the head of the sleeper, swings to her right +backward and the two bearers set the couch and its burden down by +CIRCE’S side in full view of the company. EURYLOCHUS quickly resumes his +seat among the men, while the swine-maiden, wearing her long whip coiled +as a girdle round her waist, retires to a position near the lute-girl, +where the two remain standing side by side. _Mikkos_, who had sprung into +the room close behind the bearers, is seized by MYRTO and tied fast with +shortened chain to the spokes of her wheel. The form and features of +PHILINNA are motionless as in death. She is clothed in her gauzy dress +of noonday. The banqueters in profound silence gaze with horror at the +apparition. CIRCE, laying hand upon her wand, faces her guests steadily +with a trace of irony in her look, while a few notes of solemn music fall +from the lute of THRATTIS. + +ULYSSES + +[_Half rising from his chair with gesture of inquiry and deprecation_] + + What!—Circe? Thy Philinna?—is this death? + Forbid it, ye kind gods! + +CIRCE + + Philinna?—or Philinna’s shade? + Ask thine own followers, great commander; ask + Pale Hecate’s twin votaries! + +ULYSSES + +[_Who has risen to his feet and scanning the company perceives for the +first time that not all his men are present_] + + Ha! what? Philemon? Xenias?—where? + +EURYLOCHUS + + [_Saluting_] They encountered us, sir, as we ascended hither + bearing the sleeping maid. They were on their way to seize her, + but when they saw themselves cheated of their prey they cried + out and fled incontinently to the woods. + +ULYSSES + + Great Zeus! no flight shall save them! Up, Eurylochus! + +[_With a stern gesture of command_] + + Take Glaucus and three others of your watch; go forth; seek + out, arrest the caitiffs! Put them in irons and wait for us on + board! + +[_EURYLOCHUS and GLAUCUS stand up, several other men spring to their feet +as volunteers_. Mikkos _exhibits excitement, and GRAEA slowly uncoils +the whip from her waist. THERMIA turns pale and cannot conceal her +agitation._] + +CIRCE + + [_Lifting her wand gently_] Hold, Ulysses! Hold! + Refrain; bend not thy thoughts to chains + Or cruel punishment. Are they not even now + By failure and humiliation scourged? + +ULYSSES + +[_To whom EURYLOCHUS and GLAUCUS are looking expectantly_] + + Never! Never! + +The door behind the dais opens, a golden light fills the passage-way thus +revealed, and MERCURY, brilliantly arrayed as in the second scene of the +play, stands forth upon the platform. His step gives no sound; and, as he +extends his hands (one holding the winged wand) gently forward over the +company, all the men feel the soothing influence without turning their +heads to observe its source; while ULYSSES, and the others who stand, +sink quietly to their seats in motionless attitude. ULYSSES slightly bows +his head. The inmates of the palace are not affected like the guests; +they maintain their former demeanor; but CIRCE lowers her hand with the +wand to the table before her. + +MERCURY + + By the Father sent + I come this time, to loose the tangled web + Of crossing motive, Circe, in thy bowers. + He in the scales of fate the fortunes weigh’d + Of these thy mortal visitors all, thine own, + Of thy beloved nymphs; and bade me speed, + Taking my wand, wherewith for woe or weal + I seal men’s eyes and, when I will, unseal. + + The offending youths—already are they + Themselves in closer toils of slumber caught + Than the charm’d herb upon the maiden brought. + At my behest their living phantoms glide; + Upward or downward their blind steps I guide. + +[_Without turning, the god raises his wand gently with backward movement +of the hands, and in the wide opening behind him the forms of PHILEMON +and XENIAS appear, standing side by side. Their eyes are closed; +their features pallid in the weird light; their look is of complete +unconsciousness. THRATTIS strikes major chords._] + + Their fault the Father pardons; and decrees + They shall be toss’d no more on billowy seas, + But to their lives’ end tread the enchanted soil + Which of its bloom they plotted to despoil. + +[_MERCURY sways the wand slowly from behind forward, and the two sleepers +(PHILEMON first, XENIAS close behind him) guided by the spell pass across +the dais, gliding down behind the banqueters until they reach a position +between THERMIA and PHILINNA’S couch. Their footsteps give no sound; +their movement is mechanical; in the place indicated they stand stiff and +motionless with closed eyes._] + +MERCURY + + Arise, Ulysses! + +[_ULYSSES stands up; and simultaneously his men all rise silently to +their feet._] + + Now thy waiting bark + Swims in the darkling haven; but full soon + Eos her saffron portals will unbar + And wake the convoy breezes. Tarry not!— + Thy crew the Father’s stern assignments claim; + I sign them to _march_, FORWARD! in his name. + +[_The funeral march which closed the song of THRATTIS is played softly, +and the men pass out behind MERCURY in single file, moving noiselessly +and with the utmost precision, as if under the hypnotizing influence +of the wand waved above them. The company of EURYLOCHUS marches first, +headed by their leader and GLAUCUS, THERON and ELPENOR bringing up the +rear. The other company, excepting PHILEMON and XENIAS, immediately +follows. ULYSSES, who has donned his helmet, begins to speak as the last +man passes and the music ceases._] + +ULYSSES + + To gloom of future fates beholden fast, + The parting hour yet beckons toward the past. + What blessings lay beneath rapt moments hidden + Now to the pictured memory rise unbidden; + Each, as with pointed stylus’ steely smart, + Prick’d and deep graven on the shrinking heart.— + Farewell! O sorceress benign, farewell! + He knows not _life_, who knows not CIRCE’S spell. + +[_ULYSSES turns and goes out. The music begins again in the major key. +MERCURY, poised upon one foot in an attitude similar to that presented +by a familiar statue of the god, leans far forward with wand pointed +straight at the sleepers. PHILINNA opens her eyes and slowly rises to +a sitting posture on her couch. PHILEMON and XENIAS open their eyes +and draw long breaths. PHILINNA, turning first toward CIRCE, with one +hand clasps the left hand of the Enchantress; then, with the other, +recognizing PHILEMON, takes his right. THERMIA, when XENIAS wakes, seizes +his left hand with her own, and with a joyous look lays her right upon +his shoulder. The two youths have themselves joined hands. MYRTO seated, +whom_ Mikkos _strives to reach, holds him firmly at arm’s length by the +collar. GRAEA, standing beside THRATTIS, whip in hand, glares fiercely at +the exit._ + +_The countenance of CIRCE is deeply sad. Her wand lies relinquished upon +the table. She continues to gaze, as if into vague distance, in the +direction of her departed guest._] + + +CURTAIN + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78211 *** |