e
arrival of the mariners; for a great many yards of tapestry had now
been wrought, in addition to what I before described. In this new
part, Ulysses saw his two and twenty friends represented as sitting on
cushions and canopied thrones, greedily devouring dainties, and quaffing
deep draughts of wine. The work had not yet gone any further. O, no,
indeed. The enchantress was far too cunning to let Ulysses see the
mischief which her magic arts had since brought upon the gormandizers.

"As for yourself, valiant sir," said Circe, "judging by the dignity of
your aspect, I take you to be nothing less than a king. Deign to follow
me, and you shall be treated as befits your rank."

So Ulysses followed her into the oval saloon, where his two and twenty
comrades had devoured the banquet, which ended so disastrously for
themselves. But, all this while, he had held the snow-white flower in
his hand, and had constantly smelt of it while Circe was speaking; and
as he crossed the threshold of the saloon, he took good care to inhale
several long and deep snuffs of its fragrance. Instead of two and twenty
thrones, which had before been ranged around the wall, there was now
only a single throne, in the center of the apartment. But this was
surely the most magnificent seat that ever a king or an emperor reposed
himself upon, all made of chased gold, studded with precious stones,
with a cushion that looked like a soft heap of living roses, and
overhung by a canopy of sunlight which Circe knew how to weave into
drapery. The enchantress took Ulysses by the hand, and made him sit down
upon this dazzling throne. Then, clapping her hands, she summoned the
chief butler.

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

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

"Is it a wholesome wine?" he asked.

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

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