Thy shape remains unaltered as thy mind. Thou canst be none other
than Ulysses, renowned above all the world for wisdom, whom the Fates have
long since decreed that I must love. This haughty bosom bends to thee. O
Ithacan, a goddess wooes thee to her bed."
[Illustration: '_Who or what manner of man art thou?_']
"O Circe," he replied, "how canst thou treat of love or marriage with one
whose friends thou hast turned into beasts? and now offerest him thy hand
in wedlock, only that thou mightest have him in thy power, to live the
life of a beast with thee, naked, effeminate, subject to thy will, perhaps
to be advanced in time to the honour of a place in thy sty. What pleasure
canst thou promise which may tempt the soul of a reasonable man? Thy
meats, spiced with poison; or thy wines, drugged with death? Thou must
swear to me that thou wilt never attempt against me the treasons which
thou hast practised upon my friends." The enchantress, won by the terror
of his threats, or by the violence of that new love which she felt
kindling in her veins for him, swore by Styx, the great oath of the gods,
that she meditated no injury to him. Then Ulysses made show of gentler
treatment, which gave her hopes of inspiring him with a passion equal to
that which she felt. She called her handmaids, four that served her in
chief, who were daughters to her silver fountains, to her sacred rivers,
and to her consecrated woods, to deck her apartments, to spread rich
carpets, and set out her silver tables with dishes of the purest gold, and
meat as precious as that which the gods eat, to entertain her guest.
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