Then she addressed him, saying, “Thus far all is well; now needfully attend to what I say, and may some deity help you to remember it.” She told him first about the Sirens’ haunt, which it would be difficult for him to pass, and then about the horrible rocks where Scylla and Charybdis dwelt, giving him instructions how to meet these dangers; then continuing she said, “In your voyage you will reach the Isle Trinacria, where in pastures belonging to the Sun many beeves and fatling sheep of his are fed—seven herds of oxen, and as many flocks of sheep, and fifty in each flock and herd. They never increase and they never die, and they are tended by two shepherdesses, goddesses with redundant locks. One is named Lampetia, the other Phaëthusa. If your desire be to return to Ithaca, your home, only leave these flocks and herds unharmed, and you and all your men will return, though after many toils. But if you rashly harm them, I foretell destruction to your ship and all its crew; and if you should escape, yet your return will be late and in sorrow, with all your comrades lost.” As she finished speaking, the Morning on her golden throne looked forth; the glorious goddess went her way into the isle, and Odysseus went to his ship and bade the men embark and cast the hawsers loose. Straightway they all went on board, and duly manned the benches, smiting the hoary waters with their oars. Then Circè, amber-haired, the mighty goddess of the musical voice, sent a fair wind behind the dark-prowed ship, which gayly bore them company and filled the sails. Odysseus then told the crew all that Circè, the amber-haired, had said to him. He warns them of the dangers to come, and how they may be escaped, first the Sirens, and the rocks where Scylla and Charybdis dwelt. They escaped these dangers, and approached the pleasant island of the Sun, where the oxen with broad, beautiful foreheads were grazing, and flocks of sheep, the fatlings of the god who makes the round of heaven. While yet at sea, Odysseus heard from his ship the lowing of the herds in the stables and the bleating of the flocks, and when he heard them he immediately thought of the words the blind seer, Tiresias of Thebes, had said to him, and those of Circè, by whom he had often been warned to shun the island of the god whose light is sweet to all. Then with a sorrowing heart he said to his companions, “My comrades, sufferers as you are, listen to me, and I shall disclose the oracles which lately Tiresias and Circè gave me. The goddess earnestly admonished me not to approach the island of the Sun, whose light is sweet to all, for there she said some great misfortune lay in wait for us. Now let us speed the ship and pass the isle.”