eap of living roses, and overhung by a canopy of
sunlight which Circe knew how to weave into drapery. The enchantress took
Ulysses by the hand, and made him sit down upon this dazzling throne.
Then, clapping her hands, she summoned the chief butler.

"Bring hither," said she, "the goblet that is set apart for kings to drink
out of. And fill it with the same delicious wine which my royal brother,
King AEetes, praised so highly, when he visited me with my fair daughter
Medea. That good and amiable child! Were she now here, it would delight
her to see me offering this wine to my honored guest."

But Ulysses, while the butler was gone for the wine, held the snow-white
flower to his nose.

"Is it a wholesome wine?" he asked.

At this the four maidens tittered; whereupon the enchantress looked round
at them, with an aspect of severity.

"It is the wholesomest juice that ever was squeezed out of the grape,"
said she; "for, instead of disguising a man, as other liquor is apt to do,
it brings him to his true self, and shows him as he ought to be."

The chief butler liked nothing better than to see people turned into
swine, or making any kind of a beast of themselves; so he made haste to
bring the royal goblet, filled with a liquid as bright as gold, and which
kept sparkling upward, and throwing a sunny spray over the brim. But,
delightfully as the wine looked, it was mingled with the most potent
enchantments that Circe knew how to concoct. For every drop of the pure
grape-juice there were two drops of the pure mischief; and the danger of
the thing was, that the mischief made it taste all the better. The mere
smell of the bubbles, which effervesced at the brim, was enough to turn a
man's beard into pig's bristles, or make a lion's claws grow out of his
fingers, or a fox's brush behind him.

"Drink, my noble guest," said Circe, smiling as she presented him with the
goblet. "You will find in this draught a solace for all your troubles."

King Ulysses took the goblet with his right hand, while with his left he
held the snow-white flower to his nostrils, and drew in so long a breath
that his lungs were quite filled with its pure and simple fragrance. Then,
drinking off all the wine, he looked the enchantress calmly in the face.

"Wretch," cried Circe, giving him a smart stroke with her wand, "how dare
you keep your human shape a moment longer? Take the form of the brute whom
you most resemble. If a hog, go join your fellow sw