Circe

[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]

About This Book

VII

VIII