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The English Works of Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury; Now First Collected and Edited by Sir William Molesworth, Bart., (London: Bohn, 1839-45). 11 vols. Vol. 10.

Author: Homer
Translator: Thomas Hobbes
Editor: Sir William Molesworth

Part of: The English Works of Thomas Hobbes, 11 vols.

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LIB. X.

Ulysses’ entertainment by Æolus, of whom he receives a fair wind for the present, and all the rest of the winds tied in a bag; which his men untying, flew out and carried him back to Æolus, who refused to receive him.

At th’ floating Isle Æolia we landed,
Where Æolus, the son of Hippotas,
Beloved of th’ immortal Gods, commanded.
His house was walled all about with brass,
5Th’ ascent unto it was all one smooth stone.

Twelve were his children, six sons and their wives;
In wedlock he had join’d them one to one,
And with him in his house they led their lives,
And made good cheer; all day the house they make
10To ring with mirth, and smoke with boil’d and roast;

At night their loyal wives to beds they take,
Richly set out with coverings of great cost.
A month he entertain’d me with delight,
Ask’d me of Troy, and th’ Argive fleet, and how
15The Greeks got home. And him I answer’d right

To ev’ry thing, as far as I did know.
And when I left his house, he was content
T’ assist me friendly in my voyage back
With a west wind, and all winds else he pent

Ulysses’ entertainment by Æolus, &c.

20Into a tough and strong neat’s-leather sack;

(For Jove had made him master of the winds,
To hold their breath, or blow as he thought fit),
And with a silver string the sack he binds;
No wind could stir but as I ordered it,
25But all this did no good for want of wit.

Nine days we sail’d fore-right, and came so near
To th’ coast of Ithaca, that we could see’t
By th’ light of beacons that were fired there;
But then with weariness I fell asleep;
30For I had ne’er till now the helm let go,

Nor suffer’d any else my place to keep,
I long’d to see my native country so.
Meanwhile my fellows to discourse begin,
Thinking much gold and silver was i’ th’ sack,
35By Æolus Hippodates put in,

Which now to Ithaca I carried back.
And, Oh, did one unto another say,
How much this man is lov’d where’er he comes!
He brings from Troy a great share of the prey,
40Though we go empty-handed to our homes.

Now Æolus has given him God knows what;
Come quickly, let us while we think upon’t,
And sleeping he upon the deck lies flat,
Undo the sack and see how much there’s on’t.
45This wretched counsel taken by the crew,

The budget they undid, to see my store;
And then at once the furious winds outflew,
And whistling, snatch’d our ship away from shore.
My fellows wept, I studied which was best,
50To fall into the sea and end my pain,

Or patiently to live among the rest?
I chose to live, as better of the twain,
And hoodwink’d laid me down i’ th’ ship. At last
We found ourselves upon th’ Æolian shore,
55On which th’ unruly winds our ship had cast,

Just at the place where we set forth before:
And there we landed, and short supper made
With my companions on the rocky shore.
I one man with me and a herald take,
60And went up to the porch before the door

Of th’ hall, where Æolus sat banqueting
Amongst his sons and daughters. They admir’d.
What wind, said they, did you now hither bring?
We furnish’d you for what place you desir’d.
65Some devil cross’d you. Softly, I replied.

Of our misfortune other cause was none
But my men’s folly, who the bag untied
The whilst I slept; you can repair what’s done.
Their father answer’d at another rate:
70Hence, rascal, hated of the Gods above:

I entertain none whom the Gods do hate.
Away, I say, the Gods thee do not love.
Thus sighing we were sent away; and though
We were already tired with the oar,
75To sea we put, and forward still we row,

Six days and nights entire, ne’er giving o’er.
Upon the seventh day we landed near
To Lestrigonia, the royal seat
Of Lamus and his race; the herd’s-men there,
80When from the field they bring their sheep or neat,

Hallo to those at home; then they a-field
Their cattle drive. To one of little sleep
The site o’ th’ place doth double wages yield,
By tending one day cows, another sheep.
85For it is seated just ’twixt day and night;

Into the port we came, the which within
On each side was beset with rocks upright,
Whereof two made it narrow coming in.
My fellows with their ships were in the port,
90Near to the city; for the sea was still,

And not a wind stirring of any sort.
But I kept mine without, suspecting ill,
And with a rope had tied it to the rocks.
Then up a hill I went to look about,
95But could no sign espy of man or ox;

Then down I came again, and straight sent out
T’ enquire what kind of people lived there.
A herald then and two men more I sent,
Who as they going on the high-way were,
100That from the woody hill to the city went,

Met with the daughter of Antiphates,
That was of Lestrigonians the king.
She had fetcht water from Artracies;
Artracies the name was of a spring.
105They ask’d her of the king, and of the people,

Her father’s house she shows. They thither hie,
And find the queen there looking like a steeple,
And straight abhor’d her as a prodigy.
Then she her husband from the market-place
110Calls home, who straight intended to dispatch ’em,

And laid his hands on one; but in that space
The rest escap’d by flight, he could not catch ’em;
But then he raised with a mighty shout
The town and country, who in numbers great,
115Liker to giants than to men, came out,

And with huge stones of a man’s weight they beat
My men and ships. A woful noise and wild
I heard of dying men, and tearing planks.
When they had slain my men, they them enfil’d,
120And carried them like fishes hung in ranks.

While they did this, I had no other hope
To save myself, but quickly with my sword,
My ship being tied to th’ rocks, to cut the rope,
And make what haste I could to get aboard.
125My crew into the ship leapt all at once,

And row’d for life, till they got far enough
From land, to stand in fear of throwing stones,
And glad they had escaped, onwards row;
The rest, both ships and men, all perished.
130Next at Ææa Isle ashore we run,

Where the wise Goddess Circ’ inhabited,
Æetes’ sister, daughter of the Sun,
And Perse daughter of Oceanus;
There in a good safe harbour quietly
135We rest ourselves; some God conducted us.

There full of grief two days and nights we lie.
Soon as the morn had shown us the third day,
With spear in hand, and sword girt at my thigh,
Up to a mountain’s top I took my way,
140Some word of man to hear, or work to spy;

Through the thick wood I saw a smoke arise
About the place where th’ house of Circe stood:
Then with myself I did awhile advise
What I should do; at last I thought it good
145To make my people all to dine, and then

Safely with company to go or send.
So back I came unto my ship and men;
But by the way (some God was sure my friend)
A gallant stag came by, whom heat and thirst
150Invited had down to the stream divine;

At him I quickly threw my spear, which pierc’d
Both his sides thorough, close beneath the chine.
Down dead he falls; on ’s neck my foot I set,
Pluck’d out the spear, and laid it on the ground;
155To make a rope, I twigs and rushes get,

And his four feet together fast I bound;
Within his legs I place my head, and bear
His body on my neck; ’twas hard to rise,
Leaning with both my hands upon my spear:
160He was too great to take up otherwise.

I threw him down o’ th’ shore, and cheer’d my crew.
Friends, quoth I, though our present state be bad,
Death shall not come, I hope, before ’tis due:
Come, let us eat and drink, and not be sad.
165This said, they straightway from the ship descend,

And gaze upon ’t, for ’twas a mighty beast:
And when their wondering was at an end,
They wash’d their hands, and dress’d it for their feast;
And all the remnant of the day till night
170We made good cheer with wine and ven’son store.

After the sun had borne from us his light,
We laid us down to sleep upon the shore;
But when the rosy morn appear’d again,
I said to all my men, who grieved were:
175My mates, although I have endur’d much pain,

I must entreat you patiently to hear;
We know not where is west or east, nor where
The sun does rise or set, nor where we be;
To me does little hope as yet appear,
180And therefore we must go abroad and see.

In a low island, rising through the trees,
I saw a smoke when I stood on the hill;
Though I had utter’d no more words but these,
They heard them with a very evil will.
185Of Cyclops and Antiphates they speak,

That had devour’d their fellows formerly:
And ready were their hearts with grief to break;
They weep and whine, but without remedy.
Of my companions then two bands I make;
190Of one Eurylochus had the command,

The charge o’ th’ other to myself I take:
And two-and-twenty men were in each band.
Who should go first abroad, and who should stay,
We were content should be by lot defin’d;
195To go, fell to Eurylochus. Away

They weeping went, we weeping stay’d behind;
Down in a dale they Circe’s palace found,
Built of square stone; the place was full of shade:
Lions and wolves about it lay o’ th’ ground,
200Whom Circe tame with magic arts hath made;

These flew not at my men, but laid their noses
Upon them lovingly, and wagg’d their tails,
As dogs salute their masters; Circe’s doses
So much above their natures fierce prevail.
205Eurylochus i’ th’ door stood with his band.

The Goddess Circe busy was within;
For she a wondrous fine-work had in hand,
Past art of man, and sung as she did spin.
Then did Polites, whom I lov’d most dear
210Of all my crew, speak out unto them all:

My friends, quoth he, somebody singeth there,
A Goddess or a woman; let us call.
This said, they call, and she sets ope the gate,
Bids them come in; fools as they were, they enter,
215All but Eurylochus; without he sat,

Suspecting somewhat, therefore durst not venture.
She places them, and sets before them food,
Cheesecakes of cheese, and honey, flour and wine;
But had mix’d something with it not so good,
220Of wond’rous virtue, with an ill design.

For with a wand, as soon as they had din’d,
She drove them to the sties, and there them pent:
For body, head, hair, voice, all but the mind,
Right swine they were, and grunted as they went;
225There to them threw she acorns, crabs and bran,

The things wherewith swine commonly are fed.
Eurylochus stay’d long, but not a man
Came out to let him know how they had sped.
Then back he comes: at first he could not speak,
230Though he endeavoured; he grieved so,

The sighs and sobs his words did often break,
Till urg’d by us that long’d the truth to know;
At last he said, Renown’d Ulysses, we
Passing the woods, as we commanded were,
235In a dark vale a stately palace see;

A Goddess, or a woman, dwelleth there.
We call’d, and straight she opening the gate,
Bids us come in; they ill advised enter,
All but myself; alone without I sat,
240Suspecting fraud, and durst no further venture.

Lost they are all: for if they could, I know
Some of them would have come and brought me word,
For I stay’d long enough; this said, my bow
I took, and at my side my trusty sword,
245And bad him guide me back the self-same way.

Then fell he at my feet on both his knees,
And weeping me entreats to let him stay;
Your life, quoth he, amongst the rest you’ll leese.
To this I said: Eurylochus, stay you
250Here at the ship, since you are frighted so,

Eating and drinking with the rest o’ th’ crew;
Necessity compelleth me to go.
This said, I went along the shore, till I
Was at the entrance of the valley, where
255The house of Circe stood. Then Mercury

Encounter’d me; in form he did appear
Of a fair youth, whose beard but now began
In a soft down to peep above his face,
Which is the prime of beauty in a man.
260Alas, said he, what make you in this place

’Mongst trees and shrubs? For I can tell you this,
Your mates at Circe’s house are lodg’d in sties,
They now are swine; you’ll of your purpose miss;
You cannot set them free though you be wise,
265But rather you will with them lie. But well;

I’ll give you such an antidote as you
Need not to be afraid of any spell;
And will, besides, her purpose to you show.
To make you drink she’ll temper you a cup,
270Which shall not, for the antidote, bewitch you;

And when she sees that you have drank it up,
With her long wand she presently will switch you.
Then to her with your naked sword in hand,
As if you purpos’d to cut off her head;
275Then she will shriek, and weep, and trembling stand,

And buy her life with proffer of her bed;
You must not then refuse the Goddess’ love,
If you intend your fellows to restore:
Yet make her swear by all the Gods above
280She never will attempt to hurt you more.

Then gave he me the herb; the flow’r was white,
The root was black; the Gods do call it Moly,
And gather it, who have no stint of might;
For men to think to find it is a folly.
285Then Hermes parting, mounted to the sky,

And I to Circe’s house went on my way,
And musing stood awhile; but by and by
I call’d, and she came forth without delay,
And calls me in. I enter with sad heart;
290There in a glorious chair she made me sit,

Studded with silver nails, and carv’d with art;
Then puts a low stool to it for my feet,
And brought the potion in a golden cup,
Which she had temper’d to her bad design;
295And soon as ever I had drank it up,

She switch’d and bad me go lie with the swine.
Then start I up with my drawn sword, and make
As if I purpos’d to cut off her head;
Then did she shriek most fearfully and quake,
300And weeping to me these words uttered:

Who, whence are you? what is your father’s name?
That this drink worketh not, is very strange,
If any else had tasted but the same,
He soon had of his figure found a change;
305But you a stubborn heart have in your breast.

Are you Ulysses, that should hither come,
As Hermes told me oft, and be my guest,
When from the Trojan shore he sailed home?
Put up your sword; and that we may confide
310In one another better without dread,

Let’s to my chamber go, and side by side
Compose the things we differ in a bed.
Circe, said I, oh how can I be kind,
When you to swine my fellows turned have?
315And now you have me here, ’tis in your mind

To make me tame, and keep me for a slave.
I’ll not come near your bed, unless before
You take an oath by all the Gods above
You’ll never go about to hurt me more;
320This said, she swore, and I gave way to love.

On Circe waiting-women four attended
To do the service of the house, and were
From sacred rivers, springs, and groves descended;
Each had her proper work assigned her.
325One does the chairs with coverings array;

Another does the silver tables spread,
And on each one of them a basket lay
Of gold, and into it she puts the bread;
The third does in a silver flagon mix
330The wine and water in a silver pot;

The fourth to make a fire brings in the sticks,
And for a bath makes ready water hot.
Circe herself the water tempered
Into a just and comfortable heat,
335And pour’d it on my shoulders and my head,

Washing my limbs, till I my toil forget.
And when I bathed and anointed was,
She put upon me a fair coat and vest,
And led me in, into the dining-place,
340And to my chair and table me address’d.

One maid a golden bason, with the ewer,
To wash our hands over a cauldron brings,
The cauldron also was of silver pure;
Another loads the table with good things;
345Another on the table sets on bread,

And then the Goddess Circe bids me eat;
But other dangers running in my head,
I had but little stomach to my meat:
Which she observing, said, Ulysses, why
350Do you thus sullenly your meat refuse,

And like a dumb man sit? D’ye think that I
Intend against you some new art to use?
Have I not sworn? To which I answered:
O Circe, how can I be pleas’d d’ye think
355(When you my fellows keep disfigured

And pounded up in hog-sties) t’ eat and drink;
If you mean well, set them at liberty,
And in the shape of men before my eyes,
That I may look on them, and they on me.
360With switch in hand then out of doors she hies,

And opens all their prisons; out they come,
And were, to look to, pigs of nine years old.
She drives them with her wand into the room,
And makes them stand there while I them behold.
365Then Circe went amongst them, and each one

Smear’d with an unguent, which straightway did make
Their hair fall off, and undid all was done;
And presently a human shape they take,
Greater and fairer than they had before.
370They knew me all, my hand with theirs they press’d;

So glad they were, their eyes for joy ran o’er;
The whole house wept, and Circe with the rest.
This past, the Goddess said: Ulysses, go
And bring your ship a-land, and let her lie;
375Your goods within the rocky caves bestow,

And make haste back with all your company.
This pleas’d me well. Down to the sea I hie,
Where my companions I weeping find;
But soon as I appear’d, they presently
380About me came, their care now out of mind.

As when from pastures fat a herd of cows
Well fed return at evening to their home,
Their calves will not be kept within the house,
But play, and skip, and round about them come;
385So did my fellows, soon as they me saw,

Come skipping out o’ th’ ship, with no less joy
Than if they had been come to Ithaca,
Their native country, from the town of Troy.
Our joy, said they, Ulysses, cannot be
390Greater when we at Ithaca arrive,

Which we so wish for, than ’tis now to see
That you from Circe are return’d alive.
But tell us, pray, how died our fellows there?
But first, said I, hale up your ship to land,
395And in the rocks hide all that’s loose in her,

And come with me to Circe out of hand.
There shall you see your fellows how they live,
In want of nothing that they can devise.
To these my words my fellows credit give;
400Eurylochus alone thought otherwise.

Wretches, said he, what mean you? Will you go?
Have you a longing to be lions tame,
Or swine, or wolves, and being transformed so,
To live at Circe’s house, and guard the same?
405Remember Cyclops, and how all they sped

That dar’d to put themselves within his cave,
By too much valour of Ulysses led.
Bethink you well how you yourselves may save.
When I heard that, I drew my sword, and meant,
410Although he were my kinsman very nigh,

T’ have made his head fly. But of that intent
I was made frustrate by the company,
That interposing spoke me fair, and said,
Let him stay here, but we’ll go every man,
415While he looks to the ship, since he’s afraid.

Thus having said, to march they straight began;
Nor staid Eurylochus behind, for I
Had so affrighted him he went with th’ rest.
Meanwhile at Circe’s house my company
420Were bath’d, and oil’d, and cloth’d with coat and vest.

Feasting we found them in a stately hall.
But when we saw them, and heard everything
That had befallen them, suddenly we all
Wept out so loud, as made the house to ring.
425Then Circe said: Ulysses, why d’ye weep?

I know your sufferings both at land by men,
And what you have endured on the deep;
Drink wine, eat meat, and merry be again.
Recruit your hearts with courage, till they be
430As strong as when from home you first set out;

Put all your danger out of memory,
Nor trouble more your wearied minds with doubt.
These words of Circe’s did our spirits cheer,
And made us willingly fall to our meat;
435Both then, and ev’ry day throughout the year,

In Circe’s house we freely drink and eat.
But when the season was come round about,
And months and days of th’ year had made an end,
Then my impatient fellows call’d me out,
440And said, Strange man, do you no more intend

To see your country Ithaca? Shall we
For ever stay with Circe here? Have Fates
Decreed that you your house no more should see,
But perish here together with your mates?
445This my companions said, and said but right.

Then what remained of the day we spent
Eating and drinking merrily. At night
They to their own beds, I to Circe’s went;
Where prostrate at her knees, I press her hard
450To keep her word, and let me go my way;

My mind, said I, is going thitherward
Now, and my fellows ask me why I stay.
Renowned Ulysses, answered Circe, here
Against your will with me you shall not stay.
455But ere you go unto your country dear,

You must a voyage make another way.
You must to the house of Hades first repair;
For with Tiresias the prophet blind,
You must consult concerning your affair.
460He knows what course the Fates have you design’d,

Though blind his eye, yet is his judgment clear.
For why, to him Proserpina alone
Hath granted to peruse Fate’s register,
And know the history of things not done.
465The ghosts to him stand up when he goes by.

At this my heart was ready ev’n to break,
And in the bed long time I weeping lie,
And turn’d, and wish’d for death. At last I speak:
Circe, said I, who shall me thither guide?
470Never man yet to Hell went in a ship.

Then to me Circe presently replied:
Ulysses, let not that thought break your sleep.
You need but set your mast up, hoist your sail,
And then sit still; you shall not want a wind;
475For Boreas to waft you will not fail.

When you are come to th’ Ocean’s end, you’ll find
The woody shore and grove of Proserpine;
There the tall poplar and soft willow grows,
And there it is your bark you must put in.
480Then go along the shore to Pluto’s house,

And you shall see where into Acheron
Cocytas falls, which is a branch of Styx,
And with it also Pyriphlegeton,
And a great rock where the two rivers mix.
485Close by that place make with your sword a pit

A cubit wide, and round about it pour
Wine mix’d with honey, and pure wine after it;
Then water pure, and over all throw flour.
Such is the drink that’s offer’d to the dead.
490And further, to them you must make a vow,

That when you be at home, and out of dread,
You’ll gratify them with a barren cow.
But to Tiresias you must alone
Promise at your return to kill a ewe
495All over black. The ceremonies done

Which to the dead by common law are due,
Then of the ram and ewe let out the blood
Into the pit; their heads to hellward place,
And turn your back, and so go tow’rd the flood;
500Then shall you see the ghosts come out apace.

Bid your companions meanwhile to flay
The slaughter’d sheep. To Pluto must you and
To his queen Proserpine your prayers say,
Then sit down at the pit with sword in hand.
505Let none come near the blood until you see

Tiresias the Theban prophet come.
’Twill not be long before he with you be;
He’ll tell you all the ways to bring you home.
This said, Aurora had the light display’d,
510And Circe cloth’d me with a coat and vest,

And with a pure white robe herself array’d,
With a gold girdle girt beneath her breast,
And put upon her head her veil. Then I
Went through the house to make my fellows rise,
515And gently said unto them severally,

Let’s go, for Circe now doth so advise;
And well content they were. But safe away
I could not bring them all. For there was one,
Elpenor, neither forward in a fray,
520Not yet of very much discretion;

Heated with wine o’er night, himself to cool,
Up to the house’s top he went to sleep;
But, wak’d with noise the rest made, like a fool
Ne’er thought of coming down the stairs steep
525Backward, and so to th’ earth he headlong fell,

And broke his neck-bone, and lay dead o’ th’ ground,
And his soul leaving him, went down to Hell.
The rest came forth, and stood about me round.
To these I said: You think without delay
530That we to Ithaca are going now;

But Circe bids us go another way,
Of old Tiresias the mind to know,
The Theban prophet, who is now in Hell.
This broke the very heart-strings of my mates;
535They sob and tear their hair, but cannot tell

How to avoid what’s once decreed by th’ Fates.
Then to our ship we weeping went. Mean space
Circe a ram and black ewe there had tied,
Unseen to us; we found them on the place.
For Gods, but when they list, cannot be spied.

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LIB. X. - Homer, The English Works, vol. X (Iliad and Odyssey) [1839]

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LIB. X.