their lords. Thus she hath, and hath ever had, all
worship heartily from her dear children and from her lord Alcinous and
from all the folk, who look on her as on a goddess, and greet her with
reverent speech when she goes about the town. Yea, for she, too, hath no
lack of understanding. To whomsoever she shows favor, even if they be
men, she ends their feuds."

After the feast, Demodocus the minstrel sang the story of the Wooden
Horse; and at the memory of all he had suffered, the heart of Odysseus
melted and the tears wet his cheeks beneath his eyelids. His host marked
his grief, and begged him to tell the story of his adventures. Odysseus
complied by giving an account of his wanderings, from the fall of Troy
up to his arrival among the Phaeacians. The hero had struggled time and
again against men, against giants and monsters, against the forces of
nature, and finally against an adversary yet more powerful--the love of
goddesses.

Among his adventures was the story of his trip to the isle of AEa, where
dwelt Circe, an awful goddess, of mortal speech, own sister of the
wizard AEetes, and aunt of the more terrible enchantress Medea. She dwelt
in a house of polished stone, and all round her palace mountain-bred
wolves and lions were roaming, whom she herself had bewitched with evil
drugs. As half his band approached the house, they heard Circe singing
in a sweet voice as she passed to and fro before the great web,
imperishable, such as is the handiwork of goddesses, fine of woof and
full of grace and splendor; truly a fascinating goddess was she, though
rather gruesome in her surroundings. When the comrades of Odysseus
called to her, she graciously invited them in. "So she led them in and
set them upon chairs and high seats, and made them a mess of cheese and
barley meal and yellow honey with Pramnian wine, and mixed harmful drugs
with the food to make them utterly forget their own country. Now, when
she had given them the cup and they had drunk it off, presently she
smote them with a wand, and in the sties of the swine she penned them.
So they had the head and voice, the bristles and the shape, of swine,
but their mind abode even as of old. Thus were they penned there
weeping, and Circe flung them acorns and mast and fruit of the cornel
tree to eat, whereon wallowing swine do always batten."

Only one had been wise enough not to enter, and he rushed back to tell
the tale to his lord. Odysseus started off alone to resc